


A New Dawn

by ShepardVonHresvelg



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: "Second Playthrough", Crimson Flower, F/M, Sad with a Happy Ending, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-15 05:28:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29059008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShepardVonHresvelg/pseuds/ShepardVonHresvelg
Summary: Byleth Eisner had never really made a choice in his life, and when he was finally faced with one, he found himself unable to do what was asked. He chose instead to return to the beginning, and uncover answers to the questions that plague his heart. However, the trip has unintended consequences, changing the future forever. How will Byleth's first choice shape the continent? For better or worse, he must walk the path set before him.
Relationships: Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert & Marianne von Edmund, Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert/Marianne von Edmund, Caspar von Bergliez & Annette Fantine Dominic, Caspar von Bergliez/Annette Fantine Dominic, Felix Hugo Fraldarius & Bernadetta von Varley, Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Bernadetta von Varley, Ferdinand von Aegir & Dorothea Arnault, Ferdinand von Aegir/Dorothea Arnault, Ingrid Brandl Galatea & My Unit | Byleth, Ingrid Brandl Galatea/My Unit | Byleth, Linhardt von Hevring & Lysithea von Ordelia, Linhardt von Hevring/Lysithea von Ordelia, Shamir Nevrand & Hubert von Vestra, Shamir Nevrand/Hubert von Vestra, Sylvain Jose Gautier & Edelgard von Hresvelg, Sylvain Jose Gautier/Edelgard von Hresvelg
Comments: 8
Kudos: 13





	1. The Girl With Violet Eyes

Byleth Eisner had never really made a choice in his life. He had become a mercenary because his father was a mercenary. He went to Garreg Mach because his father was being dragged there. He became a professor, without even being given the option to decline. He became leader of the Blue Lion’s House, due to the fact that it was tied to Faerghus, his next job. He had fused with Sothis, in order to escape death, and despite his objections. His students were fighting the war against Adrestia, so he joined it as well. So now here he stood, towering over the scarlet-clad woman before him. He was glad that he had convinced the king to wait outside. His king had only recently recovered from his own demons. It might have broken him to see his enemy literally become one. Just moments before, the crumpled form had been a towering monstrosity of power and anger, but now, now the girl before him resembled a child whose world had come crashing down. He knew what he had to do; the woman had to die. The lives she had taken, the people she had betrayed, the families she had broken commanded him to slay her. He had no choice.

Yet, when she had resumed her human form, she had not pleaded for her life. She knew he was alone, but she had not tried to bribe or bargain with him. She had kept her eyes on the ground, saying nothing, waiting for the end. When the blade of judgment did not descend, she looked up at him, with tearstained cheeks. “You must finish it, my Teacher. The blood on my hands must be paid for. If my vow has been broken, then at least give me the just punishment for my sins.” The head lowered once more, as the blade raised. He had no choice. At its apex, the blade was stopped by a small sniffle, “I wanted to walk with you.” The world around him froze. This felt wrong. He stumbled back from the woman, bringing the blade down, the tip of the sword almost touching the ground. His grip upon the bone sword loosened as his hand became wet. Wet? Why was it wet? It was getting hard to see, something was blurring his vision. Tears, that’s what they were called. He was crying, for the second time in his life. Why? This woman had wronged everyone so much, and yet, he could not bring himself to kill her. _She’s different. She’s like me. She never had a choice either. Something had pushed her down this path, when she had wanted to join me. She was a shell, a husk, serving a vow I knew nothing of. Who was she really? Why had she gone to such lengths? Why does it matter, she caused this war. Yet she is connected to me. I jumped in front of a blade to save her._ He had fought side by side with the king and the students, but never once had he felt this connected to anyone. It was as if something in him was telling him, she is the key to something important, something special. He wanted to know, he wanted to see what it was, to understand her, but he had to kill her. He had to kill her. He had to kill...*clang* the sword rebounded off the stone floor. He had the power. He could go back. He could see. He could understand. For the first time in Byleth Eisner’s life, he made a choice.

**Chapter 1: The Girl with Violet Eyes**

“Come on its time to get up.” Jeralt Eisner was a man out of legend. He towered over most soldiers, and his blonde hair tended to stick out anywhere except Faerghus. The Blade Breaker, he was the man you called when your army had failed you and the Knights of Seiros couldn’t help. Yet, if you spoke to him, he was one of the kindest men in the world. He treated everyone around him the same, watched out for his men, reduced fees for the poor, and raised his son to be the same. Well kind that is, unless you were an underperforming soldier or said son delaying a job by sleeping in. “Come **on** , it’s time to get moving!” He grunted as he lifted the sleeping young man out of his bed, and dropped him on the floor. Byleth landed in a heap, becoming quite the comical sight, thrashing around in his blanket trying to escape the cloth prison he awoke to. “I’m sorry, it’s just. There was this dream I was having about a woman with white hair and crimson robes. I…I…I feel like it’s important for some reason.” The last portion coming out mumbled, partially due to the blanket but also due to embarrassment at being woken up by his father and for fixating on the dream girl. _Wait, embarrassment? I’ve never felt that before, and yet, I know that this is exactly what it feels like. Odd._ As the young man thought and collected himself, Jeralt studied the boy. He was blushing and talking about a girl. The boy had hardly ever shown emotions, and while he had dream of a war many times before, this was the first he was hearing of a girl. A smirk chiseled its way onto Jeralt’s features, _ah, he dreamt about a girl. Well, it’s good to see he is beginning to think about those things. Perhaps he’ll turn out alright after all._ His train of thought was interrupted by a furious pounding at the door. “Enter”

“Jeralt, sir. There are some students outside that say they need help. Come quick!” Jeralt grabbed his spear and shield on the way out the door, followed closely by Byleth, who snatched his bow and sword before entering the night. Before them stood three students, dressed in uniforms of different colors, but with the primary one being black. A blonde with a blue cape, who evoked a sense of déjà vu. A darkhaired young man with a short yellow cape, who appeared the most at ease. And, a girl, no, not just any girl, **the** girl. She was the one from his dream, although her hair was styled different and the outfit didn’t match, but there was no mistaking her. Her violet eyes almost glowing in the darkness like orbs of amethyst, as the world around Byleth seemed to fade. He heard something about bandits, but not much else, his only focus was her. She was important for some reason. He needed to protect her. _Protect her, why?_ “Oh, so you returned for her did you. Interesting. Hmm, I suppose I should rest now, in case you need me.” The voice, Sothis, he knew for some reason, faded, and the girl’s eyes caught his staring. His face burned, once more he felt that strange feeling called embarrassment, so he chose instead to examine an anthill at his feet. “And who might you be?” He looked up to see her eyeing him curiously, as one might do to a crackpot’s shoddy invention, not so much trying to understand it as much as trying see if it would stand up under further inspection. Byleth was saved from having to speak by a scout’s arrival, “About 20 bandits headed this way, sir; fairly well armed, and looking for a fight.”

“Well then, I’d hate to disappoint them,” Jeralt replied, gesturing to the other mercenaries to get ready. “We would like to help you. After all, we seem to be the cause of their ire anyway,” the Blonde offered, nodding at his compatriots. “Plus, the chance to see the Legendary Blade Breaker isn’t an opportunity I can pass up,” added the man in yellow. “Alright, just be careful, it wouldn’t help my reputation to have students dying on my watch. Son, watch out for them.” Byleth nodded. He had already planned on doing such, drawing his bow and positioning the students into to a formation around him. Dmitri, the boy in blue, was a lancer and the best fighter of the trio. Byleth placed him in the front of the group. His speed and strength would help the group break through the lines, making the battle easier for the rest. Edelgard, the violet eyed girl, stood side by side with Byleth. Ostensibly to help him clean up the troops left in Dmitri’s wake, but also so he could protect her easier. At the rear was Claude, the best archer of the group. The group took a position at the gate, while Jeralt took his eight mercenaries to a hill overlooking the gate. The plan was that the team at the gate would draw in the bandits, while the team on the hill would come crashing down onto the bandits’ flank.

“Come on boss, we should head back. The kids must have gone a different way. We’ve been wandering this area without a sign of them, and supposedly there’s a town nearby. We don’t need anymore trouble.”

“Shut up!” the bandit leader spit back. His day was not going well. He had been hired to do a simple job, kill any students from the Officers Academy that he could find. They were supposed to be returning from an infield exercise and would be exhausted. However, he had been unable to find most of the students. They had spread their camps out too far to be found all at once, he guessed. Finally, they had stumbled upon a professor and three students around a campfire. All had run upon seeing the bandits, but while the students had fled together, the professor had abandoned them and run into the forest. He didn’t get far though, an arrow to the knee brought him down, and his head had been shattered by an axe. The students had used the opportunity to disappear, and the tracker with the bandits turned out to be a liar, couldn’t track his own lame horse, much less three military students trying to hide. So, they had wandered off into the forest in the direction of the students, eventually stumbling onto a small village. “Look. Just like I said Kostas, a town. Who knows, they could have a sheriff or even a small garrison! Let’s head back.”

“I said shut up, maggot. We have a job to do, and I’ll make sure we do it. Just as soon as….” The gate opened revealing the three students, now accompanied by a young archer. “Ask and you shall receive, huh. Well men, time to earn your pay. See Rickard, it’s just a small town. The only one around to help them is a boy himself. Signal the other group, we might be able to have some fun in town, while we’re at it.” A horn sounded out into the calm night, answered by another of similar sound.

The defenders could do nothing but wait. Their position would be jeopardized if they went charging out to meet the bandits, before their reinforcements arrived, but they also were limited on manpower. However, surprise was still their best weapon. For what felt like an eternity, all was still, until the peace was shattered by the sounds of running feet. 30 more bandits came charging out of the forest to meet their comrades. Byleth heard the sound of Claude withdrawing an arrow from its sheath, nocking it in preparation. Dmitri’s grip on his lance shifted to an en garde position. Beside him, Edelgard tensed. Her grip on the axe handle tightened, bringing its head up, facing away from her chest, ready to strike. Byleth readied his own bow, and raised it behind Dmitri. He used the younger man’s larger frame to at least partially conceal the weapon, aiming the arrowhead so that it would just pass over the blonde’s shoulder. The bandits, for their part, arranged themselves into something like a formation. The leader and archers in the middle, along with some experienced looking swordsmen. While the rest of the swordsmen and axe men arrayed themselves in a slight crescent shape in front of the leader, those with shields went to the edges of the crescent. It was clear they hoped to use this to quickly surround the group at the gate. Afterall, the students had already escaped once, there was no way Kostas would let that happen again. The bandits began to advance steadily. Byleth held his breath. One heartbeat, two heartbeats, exhale and release. The arrow leapt from its master, soaring towards the target. One of the bigger axe men went down, an arrow lodged between his eyes. A second went down almost immediately after. In an instant, the orderly march of the bandits turned into a frenzied charge. They could crush these whelps easily, no need for strategy and patience. Byleth fired off one more quick arrow. In his haste, the arrow went low, harmlessly bouncing off a bandit’s chest plate. Dmitri charged, letting out a war cry that sounded more animal than human. Byleth drew his sword, nodding to Edelgard, before the two followed after the flapping blue cape. Claude was left at the gate to continue raining fury upon the bandits from afar. Dmitri was a terror to behold. With a swing of his lance, he could send a man flying. However, he ran out to fast, and was quickly accosted by several shielded bandits. His battle quickly turned in a stalemate war of attrition. A single solid hit could prove deadly, but such a swing could leave himself exposed to the others. The clang of him and his enemies trading blows echoed into the night.

Byleth and Edelgard, not to be outdone, charged into the fray. The two worked in tandem, one creating openings in the enemy’s guard that the other would exploit. While they were doing well, both knew they were truly only buying time until. “Now boys! Let’s join the fun!” rang out from the hill above the battle. The mercenaries charged down the hill, like a falcon descending onto its prey. Chaos ensued, and while it seemed the charge had given the defenders an advantage, the bandits’ superior was slowly shifting the battle back in favor. Edelgard was currently stuck, dueling one of the better fighters. She and Byleth had been separated in the charge was not caught in a desperate struggle. Her opponent had better reach and was better armored than her, but she was fast and more agile. All she needed to end the fight was for him to tire and overswing. The two gradually pulled away from the rest of the battle, only to be interrupted by the flying form of Kostas. Dmitri had finally landed a solid hit on the bandit leader, effectively taking him out of the fight. Frustrated by his leader’s defeat, Edelgard’s opponent took a massive swing at her head. Edelgard ducked under the blow, and countered by slicing up and into the man’s neck, the axe head breaking off halfway through. The bandit dropped his sword, before clutching at his neck and collapsing to the ground. Edelgard took the moment to catch her breath, turning to look at the fallen form of the bandit leader. Byleth had been trying to navigate his way back to Edelgard. Dmitri was being assisted by Jeralt and Claude was safe at the rear. When he finally got to the battle’s edge, he was relieved to see her tired but unharmed, until the bandit leader leapt from the ground, charging at her. “I’ll kill you, you little brat!” There was no time. Edelgard had drawn a dagger, but it wouldn’t be enough to fend off the oncoming axe. Byleth summoned all his strength and jumped. The blade came down. Byleth began to feel it bite into his flesh, before the world stopped, turning a gray color.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all. This is my first fanfic. So any advice on how to improve my writing and story would be greatly appreciated. While I will mostly be following the canon story, I will be taking liberties with the dialogue from time to time. I don't want to copy and paste the Three Houses script. If you have any interesting ideas to you'd like me to try out later on in the story, please let me know. I will try to update fairly often, but that will depend on my schedule. Thank you for taking this journey with me. :)


	2. The Beginning

*Snap* The world around him disappeared, replaced by only darkness. He could see nothing to hold himself up, yet he wasn’t falling. While pondering where he was, Byleth noticed a faint green light causing him to cast a shadow onto a cold stone floor. Turning, he is greeted by a long stone staircase, leading up to a massive stone throne with a figure sitting on it. The figure, a young girl with green hair and pointed ears, brings her hand up to meet her forehead before laughing. “You never learn, do you? Well, here we are again, fool. I am Sothis, the goddess of this land, the Beginning, but you already knew that didn’t you?” Byleth’s head began to hurt, a rush of forgotten memories returning in a flash. She was a part of him, yet separate from him as well. He began to recall several of their conversations, how they often devolved into this sprite calling him a fool for some reason or another. Whether it was deciding on a battle strategy or choosing if he should talk with certain students about their problems or not, Sothis always had an opinion. She was his constant companion, and constant critic. Yet, he felt glad to have her back at his side. _Back at my side? Did she leave?_ The more he tried to think about that particular question, the more his head hurt. “Oh, it seems that not all of your memories have returned yet,” Sothis seemed to say in answer to his internal question. Sadly adding, “Perhaps that is for the best.”

“What now, do we just sit until the end of eternity?”

“Of course not, you need to save the girl without getting us killed too. Think!” He closed his eyes, rewinding the situation in his mind. He was fighting his way to Edelgard. He saw the leader get up. The leader charged Edelgard. He jumped in front of Edelgard to save her. He began again, playing the scenario out in his mind’s eye. _There!_ Right after he saw Kostas’s body on the ground, he has just enough time to draw and shoot, before the bandit would reach Edelgard. _It would have to be a quick, accurate shot. I’ll need to hit him on the run._ “Have you made your plan?” she asked, already knowing the answer. Byleth nodded, getting into a ready stance to make the shot he knew was coming. *Snap* He was back in the battle, drawing his bow. Kostas was up. Heading towards the girl. *Pshoo* The arrow left the string, streaking to its target. It was off. He had intended to kill the man, but in his haste, he shot low and to the left, catching Kostas in the leg. The bandit leader crumpled to the ground, as Byleth rushed over to join Edelgard, with sword drawn. Another bandit ran over to the leader. “Come on, boss! We have to get out of here! The Knights of Seiros are here!”

“WHAT?!?!? The Knights of Seiros? We’ll finish you off next time.” With that, the remaining bandits fled the scene, followed closely by several cavaliers in white. “That’s right men! Get after them! Don’t let any escape!” called one of the knights. The man rode over to the small group, his armor signified he was a captain of the order. “And whom do I have to thank for protecting these students?” Jeralt rode over. “My men and I did our best, but I’m sorry we didn’t get them all for you, Sir Knight.”

“A great many thanks to you friend…JERALT? Is that you?” The knight removed his helmet, revealing the wearer to be a man with brown hair, prominent mustache, and gigantic smile. “It is you, isn’t it. Its Alois, your old friend. Why, it has been twenty years since I last saw you.”

“Alois, good to see you. I’m glad you’re alright, but you see. We’re late for another job, so my company must be going.” The knight, Alois, looked glum, “Right. Of course, Captain Jeralt, have a safe journ…Wait a minute! That’s not how this ends. I simply cannot allow you to depart in such circumstances. You must come back to the monastery with me.” Upon saying this, Alois had a gleam in his eye that all but said, “This is happening, whether you like it or not.” Jeralt sighed, turning to Byleth. “Look, kid, take the company on to Faerghus without me. I’ll join you, when I’m finished here.”

“What? Is this your son, Captain? Then you must come to the monastery too. Your father spent a great deal of time there, wouldn’t you like to see where he used to work?” Byleth thought for a moment. He had no real desire to travel with this boisterous man, but the prospect of seeing where his father used to work, and the fact that the students seemed to be heading there as well, pushed him over the edge. He nodded, as his father sighed again. “Splendid! Now, Captain Jeralt, I must catch you up on all the exciting developments since you were last at Garreg Mach.” The two wandered toward the front of the group, headed in the direction of the monastery. The other knights returned, saying they had lost the bandits in the forest. Byleth walked over to the students, in order to check up on them. “That was quite the battle.” Dmitri said excitedly.

“Outnumbered, but we still came out on top, through trickery and deception. Just what I like to see!” Claude added.

“You handled yourself quite well out there.” Edelgard stated, while quietly adding, “Thank you for saving my life.” Byleth simply nodded in response. Edelgard straightened up, “Well, now that, **that** is out of the way, I must tell you that I have not been forthright about my identity. Not only am I a student at the Officer’s Academy, but my full name is Edelgard von Hresvelg, the Crown Princess of the Adrestian Empire, and I would like to offer you a position as one of my personal guards. You’ve shown you’re more than up to the task.”

“Hold Edelgard. Your army is vast and skilled. You have plenty of soldiers at your disposal. Please sir, the Kingdom of Faerghus has great need of skilled warriors, such as yourself. I am the Crown Prince of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus, Dmitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, and if money is your concern, I am sure we can match the price of Adrestia.”

“Whoah there guys. Here I was planning on getting to know our savior a little better. Butter him up a little, before pouncing him with a job. *Sigh* Name’s Claude von Riegan, grandson of Duke Riegan of the Leicester Alliance. Well, now that everything’s been ruined, who would you want to side with? Not that we’ll hold you to this just yet.” Byleth stared at the three for a moment in disbelief. Three of the most powerful people on the continent were all vying for his allegiance at this moment. It was a lot to take in. He was tempted to say Faerghus, as that was where he was headed eventually, but that seemed like a foolish reason. Claude was an interesting man, but he had noticed the difference while they were fighting. In casual conversation, Claude came off as flippant and charismatic, but in combat he became a brutal dealer of death. Even so, the commonality, that Byleth had noticed between the two versions of Claude, was that each and every action, sentence, and expression was planned and chosen for a particular reason. The archer did not do anything without a reason, it seemed. He smiled at all the right times, commented in perfect spaces of silence, shot arrows that seemed to miss, only to strike another target, and examined everyone and everything as though it were a trap waiting to be sprung. Then there was Edelgard. When she looked at him, he felt as though every fiber of his being was being poked and prodded to gauge a reaction. Yet at the same time, she didn’t sugarcoat her proposal. Like her fighting style, it was practical and to the point. He also felt a connection to her. “I am favoring Adrestia, but time will tell if that remains the case.” Byleth didn’t want to promise anything right there, but at the same time, it wouldn’t be good to lie either. He had never been a good liar. While Claude shrugged and began to shift the conversation elsewhere, Dmitri looked disappointed, and Edelgard looked as triumphant as a cat bringing her master a mouse. The group of younger people continued to talk on the way back to the monastery, discussing life at the Academy and in their various domains. While the caravan had considered resting for the night, most had agreed that it would be better to rest in the safety of Garreg Mach. So, on they marched throughout the night.

Just as the first rays of light crested over the mountains, the group arrived at the foot of the hill the monastery was set on. The sunlight quickly washed through the stain glass windows of the monastery proper, bathing portions of the battlements in a rainbow of colors. All Byleth could do was stop and stare in wonder at a world he had never known. Though it was still early in the day, there was already a bustle in the town at the foot of the hill. Fisherman preparing their catch for market, shopkeepers arranging their window displays, innkeepers cleaning the exterior of their businesses to make them as inviting as possible, and the various merchants of the small open-air markets, both in town and the monastery, prepared their stalls for the day. Alois led the way to the monastery’s gate, where the group separated. The students went to their dorms to catch a small amount of sleep, the mercenaries to an inn, and the knights to their stables and barracks. Leaving Jeralt and Byleth alone with Alois.

The knight captain led them into the main building and up several flights of stairs, to what appeared to be the offices of the staff. Alois paused before a large double door, explaining that he should go in first and that he would get the two mercenaries when the staff were ready. “Hey kid, just in case something happens, don’t trust Rhea.” Before Byleth could ask Jeralt who Rhea was, Alois returned to summon them. Before them stood two people, the woman was dressed in a white priestly robe, topped with a blue shawl that faded into a gold cape bearing a pattern of white Crests of Seiros. On her head, she wore an elaborate gold headdress, with six silver stars gleaming out at all those who looked at it. The man, standing beside her, was far less elaborately arrayed, wearing a navy-colored jacket with gold embroidery running from the chest to the shoulders. A simple golden circlet adorned his head. Whilst Byleth had never seen them before, or at least not in this life, something about their green hair reminded him of someone. The man spoke first, “Well Captain, we would like to greatly thank you and your company for assisting our waylaid students. Rest assured you will be handsomely compensated for your services.”

“Seteth! That is no way to greet a guest. Introductions first, then we can discuss business.”

“Ahem, of course. My apologies, I am Seteth, assistant and secretary to the Archbishop Lady Rhea.” He nodded to Jeralt.

Jeralt bowed. “Jeralt Eisner, captain of Eisner’s Iron Elite. Although, I am quite sure that Lady Rhea was already well aware of that.”

“Indeed, your actions these past few years have not gone unnoticed, but who is this?” The Archbishop turned her attention to Byleth for the first time in their exchange. While Edelgard’s stare had been evaluating and Claude’s disarming, the Archbishop gazed through Byleth. Her eyes displayed an expectant hope of something that had not yet manifested. It threw Byleth off for a moment. Instead of answering the question, Byleth simply examined the Archbishop, attempting to gain any understanding of what she was thinking. He did not know why, but he felt uneasy around her. That, combined with his father’s warning, had given Byleth cause to avoid the question entirely. “Insolence! Lady Rhea asked you a question. The polite thing would be to answer it.” Jeralt stepped in, sensing the uneasiness of his son. “I apologize. It’s my fault. I raised the boy outside of the Church of Seiros. While he understands perfectly how to deal with a duke, decorum with a priest or even Archbishop is completely foreign to him.” This seemed to ease Seteth’s anger somewhat. “It is alright Seteth. Besides, I already know who he is, Byleth Eisner. You are Jeralt’s only child, correct?” Hoping to avoid further outbursts by the secretary, Byleth merely nodded, still trying to get a bearing on this Archbishop person. “Well now that the pleasantries are completed. Jeralt, Alois has already made his petition to you informally. I would like to ask you, personally. What is your answer?”

“You want me to rejoin the knights?”

“You seem hesitant.”

“A lot has changed in the past twenty years **Lady** Rhea. I am not the same man I was, but if you insist, I will agree.” Turning to address Byleth, “Albrecht will get the men to follow you. Heed his advice, I leave the fate of the company in your hands.”

“Oh, there is no need for that. We will be offering Byleth a position with the Officer’s Academy. You see, we are in need of a new professor. We were also planning on hiring your company as an auxiliary to the knights.” Seteth began to object, but was silenced by a hand and a look. “That is a most generous offer, but...” Jeralt began, but was cutoff. “I accept! It would be an honor to serve as a professor of the Officer’s Academy.” Both Seteth and Jeralt stood aghast. Rhea simply smiled once more. “Excellent, there will be no class today, in light of recent events. So please, take the time to get to know the students and get rested up for tomorrow.”


	3. The Professor

Byleth wandered the courtyard, aimlessly. He had already stopped by the mess hall; they had good food here. There he had met some students, Lindhardt and Caspar from the Black Eagles, Mercedes and Annette of the Blue Lions, and Raphael and Lysithea of the Golden Deer. They were quite a unique bunch. Caspar and Annette both excitedly explained how awesome each of their classes were, and that they hoped Byleth was a new student. Lindhardt simply slept, face down on the table. Raphael only stopped his eating long enough to proclaim how wonderful the food was, and Byleth could swear he had heard a growl when he had so much as looked at Lysithea’s sweets. Mercedes had quietly gone about preparing more pastries for baking. He had found the conversation both informative but exhausting. Having spent most of his life around mercenaries meant that he had little experience with how others around his age acted. _They certainly had energy. I wonder if I will be able to keep up with them?_ His thoughts were broken by a sharp clang off to his right.

He glanced over at the large wooden door; a small sign declared this to be the training ground. He quietly opened the door, wishing not to disturb the student(s?). The door opened halfway, before he stopped. There before him stood a beautiful young woman. She wore the female Officer’s Academy uniform, accompanied by blue leggings and knee-length riding boots, and wielded a training lance. She was putting up quite a fight against the training dummy, her blonde braid mirroring her every movement. Her footwork was magnificent, each step timed perfectly with a movement of her lance, always maintaining a steady stance. However, he could tell that at times, she lacked the strength necessary to turn a damaging blow into deadly on several of her strikes. He was about to approach the girl to tell her as much, when. *Clap clap clap* “Well done Ingrid, if you plan on tickling your opponent to death. Seriously, even if you don’t have the strength to kill him outright, you could at least target his weak points better. Aim for his joints, his manhood, or better yet throw sand in his face, before stabbing him in the neck.”

“Felix, you should know by now, that I won’t stoop to such tactics. I will win by superior technique and footwork, and that is sufficient for me. It is the only honorable way to win.” Ingrid said with a smile.

“Ha, I doubt even the most chivalrous knight could get on your high horse. Have it your way.”

“He’s right you know.” Byleth jumped slightly as he came face to face with the blade of the training lance. He raised his hands to show he was not a threat. Ingrid sighed, annoyed at being surprised. “And what would you know, stranger?”

“Well, I am a mercenary with a great deal of combat experience. In battle, there is no honor. Noble knight and scandalous bandit have the same goal, survive by any means. There is no code, only death.” Ingrid was about to scoff, he looked only slightly older than her, but she stopped herself. His stance, he was ready to draw his sword or dodge at any second, even though he seemed at ease. She had only seen this in her combat instructors, all of whom had fought several battles. _Seems he’s telling the truth, interesting. Wonder why he’s here, then. He clearly doesn’t seem to need any more practice._ Byleth continued, “People often talk about how honorable and glorious battle is, it’s neither of those things. It is cruel, it is terrible, and sometimes it is necessary. More often than not, wars and battles are fought over something petty, like whether you called a count’s favorite chair green or chartreuse or a bandit stole some insignificant trinket from a local lord. It is far rarer to fight a war for a just cause, even a defensive war can be self-serving. My only hope as a warrior, is that one day I might be able to fight such a war, but more than that, that I will choose the right side.” Ingrid stared at him in awe. While he looked about her age, in that moment, he seemed to have lived a thousand lifetimes and fought hundreds of battles.

The speech had surprised even Byleth himself. While he had indeed fought two lifetimes worth of battles, there seemed to be something more there. It was almost as if another voice of a bygone era had spoken through him. _Just how many times have I relived this life?_ “Well, this version of you has only lived twice.” Sothis supplied, “But that’s unimportant right now. The girl is about to say something.”

“Who are you really? You are clearly an experienced fighter, but then you just burst out into a monologue about the nature of war. What, are you some kind of fighting philosopher?”

Byleth burst into laughter. The image of one of those stuffy looking academics, in long robes with that weird square hat, wielding a sword, or better yet, dropping the robe and hat to reveal that they had been trained by some obscure master in the way of the sword, was an amusing sight.

Ingrid blushed, sure she had been laughed at before, by her father, brothers, Sylvain, and even Dmitri, but now a stranger was laughing at her for a genuine question. Her anger began to bubble. She would not be disrespected like this.

Byleth caught himself, just in time to see the irritation rising in the young woman. “Whoah, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to put you down. It’s just I tried to picture what such a man would look like, and I found it funny.”

Some of her annoyance faded, but only some. “Well, if you are truly sorry, then I would like to ask you to spar.” A training duel was fairly common in honorable Faerghus, the nation had long since outlawed any lethal duels. It was a chance for the wounded party to exact their vengeance in bruises and blood, but also gave both parties an opportunity to train harder than they would against an ally. Ingrid also had another reason to duel the young man, he would actually fight. It was hard to find a good training partner. Her teachers went easy on her because of her father. Dmitri was terrified of hurting her, and Felix typically outright refused most often. Sylvain was okay, but his girl hopping was often the cause of her need to train. This stranger could also serve as a test for her, to see if her ideal of fighting could hold up. “Very well, I accept.” The blue haired stranger walked to the weapon rack, reaching for a sword before stopping. “It’s custom that the injured duelist chooses the weapons, correct? Or has the Faerghus nobility done away with that?”

“No, they haven’t, but pick whatever weapon you like.”

Byleth nodded, selecting a wooden sword that was cut to the length of a one-handed longsword. He walked back to the training area, swinging the weapon to test its weight. Surprisingly, it was actually fairly equivalent to the weight of a real sword. As he approached, the woman assumed a fighting stance. He assumed a low guard, the pommel of the sword level with his waist, and the blade angled out toward his opponent. He waited for her to call the start, regulating his breathing, this would be a battle of attrition. “Begin” She immediately charged him, launching into several quick thrusts at his chest. While the lance gave her better reach, its heavier weight made her thrusts easier to time and slide out of the way, only needing to block with his sword on occasion.

In spite of her quick start, the man was blocking and dodging her strikes with relative ease. _Time to change it up_. Her next attack was a slash to his torso, that stopped mid swing, turning into another thrust. He was nearly caught off guard, taking a step back to avoid the poke in the ribs. Ingrid pressed the advantage, mixing in strikes to the shoulders.

Byleth was on the retreat. She had been clever enough to begin changing up her strikes and patterns, but stopping the lance in the middle of a slash, to thrust instead, takes a lot of energy. She struck again, slower, with a traditional thrust. He parried the thrust, and took the opportunity slash at her front knee.

Ingrid was stuck. She had overcommitted to the thrust, and now he was attacking her leading leg. She had three options: 1) use the back of the lance handle to attempt to parry the strike 2) attempt to dodge the slash or 3) take the slash, in exchange for bring the lance blade into his exposed side. The first was unlikely to succeed. The second would work, but would also put her on the defensive. She opted for the third. The blade connected with her knee, sending shockwaves of pain rushing to her brain. _Yup, that’s gonna bruise._ However, her strike also came crashing into his side. _Gotcha._ One problem though, she found that when she tried to withdraw the lance, she couldn’t. He had trapped the handle, right behind where the blade would be, between his torso and elbow. He yanked hard. She stumbled forward, before she was struck in the shoulder, sending her to the ground. He kneeled over her, his right fist pinning her shoulder to the ground, while the sword he held was at her throat. His other arm still wrapped around the lance, making a counter strike impossible. “Bold move. Taking a strike to the knee to get a free shot at my side. Bold, but foolish. You should avoid taking direct hits at all cost, never in a large-scale battle. But, if you are going to take one, you have to make sure your strike finishes your opponent.” He let go of the lance and removed his sword, but remained kneeling over her. He pulled out a handkerchief to dab some blood from her lip, she’d bit it when she hit the ground. “PROFESSOR BYLETH, WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?” The two turned to see Professor Hanneman in the doorway. The two combatants then realized just what their position looked like, both turning crimson. Professor Byleth(?) quickly stood before offering a hand to her. She accepted and stood. Both bowed to Professor Hanneman, explaining the cause of their positioning. The older man laughed and shook his head. “Well now, that is quite the way to start your career at the Academy. If you’re both okay, Byleth, you’re needed at the faculty meeting.” He nodded, turning to her, “Keep it.” Giving the handkerchief to Ingrid before following Hanneman to the meeting.

Ingrid continued to dab her lip while looking around the training grounds, recalling the duel. While she was beaten and bruised, she felt exhilarated. She had been challenged and performed well; she hadn’t felt this way after a spar since… **him**. Not only that, but he had treated her like an equal, despite the fact that she was clearly less experienced. She looked down at the handkerchief. It was simple, white, made of cotton, but it worked well. She began to blush thinking again about the scene that led to her having the handkerchief. _How dare you get so worked up over him. Have you forgotten Glenn? Are you going to just move on, while he rots?_ Ingrid’s face darkened. She picked up the lance, taking three swings at the training dummy. The dummy’s arm snapped at the elbow on the first swing. The leg went sailing on the second. The third removed its head from its body. She left training room, heading to her dorm. The handkerchief still in her pocket.

Byleth arrived at the offices of the Academy’s professors. Hanneman, who had introduced himself on the way, directed Byleth into his office. Another professor, Manuela, already waited there for them. Byleth had recognized Manuela from her opera days, not having gone to operas, just seen the posters. “Where did you find the rascal?” Manuela chirped. “He was dueling with Ingrid.”

“Interesting, who won?”

“I did.” Byleth replied, grimacing slightly as he spoke.

“Oh, what’s wrong dear?”

“She got me….in… the side…Really hurts.”

“Ah, got you, back did she? Well come here.” Manuela held her hands over the affected area. Byleth’s side lit up with white holy magic, restoring it to normal. “There all fixed up. In case Hanneman didn’t tell you, I am Manuela Casagranda, physician and professor at this Academy.”

“And choir director I presume, being that you used to work for the Mittelfrank Opera Company.”

“Unfortunately, no, I am not, those days are behind me. But you must be a fan of my work then?”

“Not particularly interested in Opera. I just remember your picture on posters advertising them.”

“I see... Well, *Ahem* back on topic. We called you here to discuss which class you’ll be teaching.”

Hanneman interjected, “Being that you are the newest and youngest professor, we thought only right to let you pick first. There are three houses at this Academy, the Blue Lions of Faerghus led by Dmitri, the Golden Deer of the Leicester Alliance led by Claude, and the Black Eagles of Adrestia led by Edelgard.”

Byleth considered his options a moment. “Hanneman, is it possible for students to transfer classes?”

“Yes, students are slotted into a class based on where they were live, but that does not mean they have to stay there. The student can move classes with the approval or recommendation of a professor. You have someone in mind then?”

Byleth nodded. “I would like to teach the Black Eagles, but I would like to ask Ingrid to join the class.”

Manuela hid her smile behind her fan. “She made that much of an **impact** on you, did she?”

Byleth smiled, trying very hard to prevent his face from turning red. “Yes, she impressed me with her skill and cleverness. I think there’s a lot she can build on… to become a great officer.”

“And you want an excuse to see her more.” Sothis unhelpfully cooed in his head.

“Very well, its settled. So long as Ingrid agrees, I will allow.” Hanneman looked thoughtful for a moment. “I’m sorry to do this to you so early, but at the end of the week, the classes are scheduled to have a mock battle.”

“That’s fine. I’ll have them ready by then.” With that, Byleth turned and left the room, determined to find the remaining Black Eagles.

The day had passed slowly for Ingrid. She had spent the rest of the morning and a decent portion of the afternoon in her room. Finally leaving for dinner, her stomach demanded penance for neglecting lunch. After dinner, she had spent time in the sauna, allowing her thoughts and cares to drift away with the steam. It was dark when she left the sauna, most students had retired for the evening.

As she descended the stairs, she heard the tell tale sounds of someone training. _Odd, there shouldn’t be anyone training this late._ She cautiously approached the training grounds. Peering in, she saw the man from earlier, Byleth. He had arranged seven training dummies in a row on one side of the room, with three tables on the other side. On the tables were five weapons and two books. _Why do that?_ Almost in answer, Byleth walked over to the first table. He paused in front of it, seeming to wait for something, before grabbing the sword. He charged the first dummy, laying into it with slashes and thrusts, dodging and parrying imaginary attacks. After going for a minute, he stopped and walked back to the table. This time he picked up the bow, and emptied the quiver into the target. Moving to the next table, he picked up the lance, and assumed a stance identical to Ingrid’s from the fight earlier in the day. He slashed, stabbed, and even used the butt of the lance to batter his opponent, before stopping again and moving on.

Following up with an axe, then a set of gauntlets, he finally came to the last table. He picked up the first book. Flipping to a random page, he began to speak the incantation. However, when he finished, the holy light that should have devastated his target, only sputtered toward the dummy. When the attack did reach its target, it only managed darken the armor a few shades. Byleth, though, moved onto the next book. Again, he flipped to a random page, he began once more attempting to summon the spell. Black and purple energy began to coalesce at his palm, but it began to become unstable, before fading altogether. He sighed, before walking back to the first table. Before he started the cycle again, Ingrid chose to make her appearance. “Interesting training method, but wouldn’t this just reinforce some of your bad habits.” Byleth turned to look at the one who disturbed his ritual. “That is true, but the reality is, I’m trying to more understand the methodology behind each weapon. Each weapon is unique, and serves a unique purpose in the battlefield and in the classroom. If I am to teach students, I must understand the weapons they use, and why they might use them. When it comes to teaching them how to use the weapons, well, I am at least fair with each physical weapon, and Professors Hanneman and Manuela are going to help me with the magical portion. However, if I at least understand the weapons, then I will be able to better understand the wielder. For example.” He said picking up the lance. “This is a good weapon. It has great reach and is easy to learn, but it has little in the way of defense, save the handle itself. It is best used when paired with a shield, but this can also slow down the user. Someone who picks this and uses it without a shield values reach and speed. They want to be able to hit their enemies quicker and from further away. They prefer fast battles with massive charges to break formations quickly, or to be able to escape quickly should the battle turn. However, their speed and reach also leave themselves vulnerable to one who is able to make it past the initial assault. One who wields the lance this way, must accept the very likely possibility of death.”

Ingrid was stunned. He was clearly not an expert on the lance, not like he was with the sword and bow at least, but he had completely taken apart the philosophy behind the weapon and the lancers themselves. Not all of what he had said was completely accurate though. Bucklers could be used to help deflect blows, and light or heavy armor could give the lancer better survival odds. But, he seemed to know why she used the lance, and from what she knew of Dmitri since the tragedy, Byleth understood why he used the lance as well.

Byleth scratched back of his neck. Ingrid hadn’t said anything since he finished talking. “I’m sorry that was probably a bit much, or I could be completely wrong. The lance isn’t one of the….”

“No, you’re right. I just never really thought about it like that, until now. You’re quite the interesting man, Professor.”

He hadn’t been expecting that. He thought he had seen grief wash across her features in the flickering candle light just before she spoke, but maybe he was just imagining it. _Professor, not sure if I’ll ever get used to being called that._

“Um, Professor Byleth, could I ask you a question?”

“Of course, Ingrid.”

“Could I join your class? I heard at dinner that you had chosen the Black Eagles.”

“Yes, you definitely can. I had been planning on asking you that very same thing.”

“Oh, really? Excellent….” She hesitated, “Well, I’ll see you in class tomorrow, goodnight Professor.”

“Goodnight Ingrid.” With that Byleth went about cleaning up the training room. _Tomorrow is going to be an interesting day._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a couple things to address. 1) Ingrid is perhaps my favorite character in the game. Her character and supports were so interesting and engaging for me, that I ended up romancing her my second playthrough (Which this fic is loosely based on) instead of Marianne, who I intended to romance. As such, I want to do her character justice, so any feedback about how I am writing her dialogue or her actions is especially appreciated. I want her to remain fairly close to how her ingame counterpart would act, given the changes to the world that will be coming. 2) As mentioned there be will some changes. I initially wanted this fic to be very close to the canon story, only changing up dialogue, adding supports, and adding details about the fact that it is a second playthrough. However, when I wrote the summary for the story itself, the idea of there being consequences for Byleth's reversal of time kept coming back to me. So, some things in and around the world will be changing, but I still intend, for the most part, to stick to the story beats that the wonderful writers of Three Houses gave us. Some things that are added or changed will benefit our protag and others will harm him, again letting me know what y'all think, if it is working or not. I intend to go back through the entire story again once it is finished, editing based on what you think and based on my own personal view of what went wrong or right. Anywho, I hope everyone has a good week. Thanks for reading.


	4. Studies on Proper Deployment

The next day had indeed been interesting. Byleth had been formally introduced to the Black Eagles as their new professor, and he had subsequently introduced Ingrid as a new recruit to the BEagles. However, problems ensued when Byleth actually had to start teaching. Having never done more than the one-on-one session with Ingrid, he had a rough time at first. Keeping the students on task, while assisting students with questions, but also making sure no one was bored, became quite a conundrum the first two days. But, by the end of the second day, Byleth had discovered a technique that would help everyone with their studies. Being a mercenary his whole life, he had a wealth of in-field knowledge. By bringing up stories of his adventures, he could help keep the attention of students like Caspar and Petra (the former was normally too excitable to sit still, and the latter often had some difficulty understanding due to the language barrier). To further engage students, he would frequently relay these stories through reenactments (perfect for Dorothea and Ferdinand, his two main co-stars). Finally, he would describe the theories and philosophies behind different battles or tactics (about the only thing Linhardt woke up for, and thoroughly enjoyed by Edelgard and Ingrid). Hubert always paid **_extremely_** close attention anyway, and Byleth always made sure to meet with Bernadetta after class, in the safety of her room, for tutoring.

“And that is how we managed to overcome a much larger force, through discipline and cunning.” Byleth finished. He had just spent the last half-hour recalling the rescue of the House Leaders by him and his father (Dorothea played the role of the bandit leader, and Ferdinand acted as Jeralt). “However, discipline and cunning are not everything. A battle is often decided before it even begins. A great scholar once said, ‘If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles.’ If you know your enemy, then you can possibly know what he will do in a particular situation. If you truly understand him, then you will be able to predict his actions in any battle, because you will know why he would choose these actions. Further on in his writings, the scholar said, ‘Next is the terrain. It can be distant or near. It can be difficult or easy. It can be open or narrow. It also determines your life or death.’ In our modern battles, there are three things that can completely determine a battle before it starts. First, as the scholar said, is terrain. Are there forests, bridges, or pastures? Will you have to pass through a town? How would you retreat, if the need arises? These questions must be answered, before combat begins. If you don’t, you could end up losing not just the battle, but your entire army and your own life. Second, is your unit formations. What are the different types of units you’ll be deploying, and how will they deal with the units the enemy deploys? If, hypothetically, Faerghus went to war with Adrestia, Adrestian commanders have to ensure they have units to counter Pegasus knights and cavaliers, and likewise, the Faerghus commanders have to deploy units to counter the mages and heavy infantry of Adrestia.” Byleth paused a moment, letting the students process everything. Ingrid looked thoughtful for a moment, before raising her hand. At Byleth’s nod, she stood and addressed him, “So Professor, if certain groups have better units in different areas, how do you counter your opponent while maximizing your own units effectiveness.”

“An excellent question, and there is a twofold answer to it. Firstly, you work to find a way for your best troops to counter your opponent. In the example, the cavaliers of Faerghus can be countered by small, tight formations of infantry armed with lances and shields. The horses would either be too scared to charge into the spears, or they would skewer themselves on the lances. The Pegasus knights can be countered by the ranged spells of the mages. Get a group of them together, and then create a gale in the air the knights fly in. The knights would get knocked off their mounts, and fall either to their death or be taken out of the battle. Likewise, the cavaliers would have an easier time dealing with the mages of Adrestia, as they are only as susceptible to magic as a normal soldier, and while it is easy to guard one’s flanks and front, it is very hard to guard the air, making the heavy infantry vulnerable to Pegasus knights. The second part, which also connect to the third aspect of a battle, is how and where you deploy your units. Cavaliers will be neutralized by rough streams, or muddy ground. Infantry in wide open plains can easily be flanked and surrounded. Pegasus knights are useless in thick forests and caves. Mages, who aren’t given enough time to cast, can have their powers reduced, or countered by other magic. Every action taken in battle must consider how it will be affected by these three keys: terrain, formations, and deployment. They can either save your lives, or doom your plans entirely. That’s all for today, dismissed.”

As the students began to collect their things, Byleth was surprised to see a large audience outside the classroom. Some students he recognized as his so-called “fans.” These were students who were drawn to the idea of a “cute” professor appearing out of nowhere, with no seeming attachments. He, honestly found them rather annoying, constantly interrupting his meals and training. However, he also noticed several prominent members of both the Golden Deer and Blue Lions. _That’s odd, shouldn’t they be in class?_ He glanced at the new pocket watch Lady Rhea had given him, five hours past mid-day. He paled at the realization. _Of course, they’re watching. Their class probably finished two and a half hours ago._ He turned back to the students, about to apologize for taking so long, but as he did so, he noticed that none of them seemed in the least upset. Caspar was regaling Linhardt with the story of Edelgard’s rescue (that he had slept through). Petra, Ingrid, and Bernadetta were already thinking about possible deployment strategies (Bernie favoring anything close to the edge of battle). Dorothea and Ferdinand were discussing their respective performances. Hubert was scouring the classroom’s bookshelves, picking up books on battalion composition and geography.

“Quite the interesting lecture today, my Teacher. It made me rethink some views I had on unit composition.” Edelgard smiled at him, her books and materials already packed into a small case. “I was actually surprised by how late it is.” Nodding to the onlookers. “It seems you have attracted quite the audience. Oh, before I forget, who was that philosopher you were quoting? He seemed rather intriguing. I really like to read his work.” Byleth frowned. It had been bothering him all day, but he couldn’t remember his name. “I can’t quite remember the name, but he wrote a book called, _The Art of War_. The two quotes were excerpts from that work.”

“Excellent, well, it seems I’ll need to stop by the library. See you at dinner professor.” The House leader bowed to the professor before exiting the classroom. Turning back to the classroom, Byleth smiled. In spite of all his expectations, he was enjoying teaching the BEagles. They were rowdy, and had to be kept on task, but they were so full of life. It was contagious.

He shook his head. _Careful Byleth, you might start to get used to this._ With that, Byleth exited the classroom. He was greeted by two of the Blue Lions, Sylvain and Felix, as he recalled. “Evening, Professor.” The taller redhead, Sylvain, said. “Quite an interesting teaching style.”

“If you like, you could always sit in on a class or two. I sure Professor Hanneman wouldn’t mind.”

“Thank you, but no, not yet at least. The mock battle is only a few days away, so I can’t really do that to Dmitri. No, we were only here to see the teacher that stole away Ingrid.”

Felix, the shorter blue haired man, spoke up, “Hmph, from what you showed today, I don’t understand it. You seem to have no concept of time, and prefer engaging in plays to actually teaching. I think I might learn more from the Boar than I could from your antics.”

“Felix, Sylvain, that’s enough! Is that all you came here to do?” Ingrid had split off from the girls upon hearing the commotion. “I made my choice, and you all said you’d respect it. It has been four days since I left the Blue Lions house, and now I come out here to find you both harassing my professor. Where do you get off telling him how to teach? It may be unconventional, but it works.”

Sylvain seemed to be genuinely hurt by the accusations. “Ingrid, we were only concerned. We just wanted to make sure you weren’t regretting your choice. Dmitri would have come too, but he had to meet with Seteth.”

“Really? You call **this** showing concern for me? I stuck around with you all, cleaning up your messes for years, without so much as a thank you. Then when I finally decide to do something for myself, then all of sudden everyone is concerned that I might be regretting this choice. Fine! You came and saw the class. You can tell Dmitri that I am doing fine. I regret nothing! Now go, if you have nothing more constructive to say.”

Felix simply turned on his heal, and marched off toward the training grounds. Sylvain looked torn for a moment, deciding if he should follow Felix, try to talk to Ingrid, or just leave to find Dmitri. He finally settled on the latter. Byleth watched them go, before turning to a rather annoyed Ingrid. “Is everything alright? I understand being upset with them, but that’s not it, is it?”

Her day had been going poorly. It had started with a letter from her father, and then her favorite lance had broken. Everything had somewhat calmed down during the lecture. She had enjoyed her time with Professor Byleth. He was reasonably well-read, especially for a mercenary, his father’s doing he had said. He had also been proving to be rather perceptive, completely altering the way he taught or spoke based on who he was speaking with. _He’s right, of course. Those idiots just compounded what Father wrote. But its too close to the mock battle, and I don’t want to burden him with any personal issues._ “Well, I have a lot on my plate right now, but its unimportant. We should focus on the upcoming battle. Maybe afterwards, we can discuss it.” _Stupid! Why did you add that last part in?_

Byleth regarded Ingrid closely. She seemed to tense up slightly at his question, and from her expressions after her statement, it was clear that she didn’t actually want to discuss it. His heart wanted to press it further, but his head knew better. “Alright, whenever you’re ready to talk. Just remember that my door is always open, for anything you need.”

She nodded, heading off to the dining hall. _For anything I need huh? Well, we’ll see. I may take you up on that after all._

**2 Hours Later**

It was getting late. After dinner, Byleth had joined Bernadetta in the garden. It was her turn to water the plants. The two had idly chatted about the plants, the day’s events, and the classroom lessons. She had seemed to slowly be getting used to him. However, it had all gone south, when Alois had come charging in. He said he had been tasked by Seteth himself to locate an item that Flayn, Seteth’s little sister, had lost. After scaring Bernadetta half to death, and nearly jumping into the flower beds in search of the item, Byleth had convinced Alois to let him help find the item. Bidding Bernadetta good night, the two had set off in search of the missing item, an antique clasp that had been her mother’s. Upon finding it, they returned to Seteth, who thanked them for finding Clara’s clasp. It was starting to get dark, but Byleth wanted to visit the stables before bed.

When he was young, his father had taught him to ride, hoping Byleth would also become a paladin, like him. However, Byleth had been far to interested in the sword and bow to go down that path then. Still, he had always enjoyed riding, but as he grew older, he had less and less time to do it. Now though, he had to teach these students to ride. Some had a knack for it, while others struggled. Not that he minded, it gave him a chance to relive some good childhood memories. _Maybe I’ll go for a night ride. It’s clear and cool tonight, perfect for it._ As he approached the stables, he heard the sound of a woman talking. She spoke quietly and softly, and Byleth, not wanting to disturb her, approached equally as quietly.

“Shhh, its alright Dorte, I know you’re tired, but you should eat. It has been a long day, and you shouldn’t go to bed on an empty stomach. There, that’s better. See it’s good huh?” The horse the young woman spoke to, responded by licking her face. “Heh heh, Dorte, that tickles.”

Byleth couldn’t help but laugh at the scene in front of him. The blue haired woman in front of him eeked, before turning to face the trespasser. “I apologize for the intrusion, but that was too adorable. You’re from the Golden Deer House correct?”

She nodded. “Yes, I am Marianne von Edmund. Um, pleased to make your acquaintance, Professor Byleth. Now if you’ll excuse me…”

“Hold on a moment. There is no need to run off. I understand, talking to animals can often be more therapeutic than talking to people. Your horse, his is Dorte isn’t it? He seems like a good one.” The horse nuzzled Byleth in response.

“Yes, he is a very good horse, and he is very brave. He is usually scared around strangers.”

“I see, well I was planning on going for a night ride. Would you and Dorte like to join me?”

Marianne paused a moment. He was a professor, and she had heard all the other students speak very highly of him. Most of all though, Dorte seemed to trust him, and he was a very good judge of character. “Alright, but I probably won’t be much for conversation.”

“That’s fine, it will just be nice to enjoy a ride with someone other than my father for once.” With that, he retrieved his own horse, Elessar. The two rode off into the clear night. Dorte and Elessar trying to challenge each other in speed, while their riders simply held on, occasionally guiding the horses with a tug on the reigns. Byleth and Marianne talked little, only occasionally discussing how each other’s classes were going, and how the other was doing adjusting to Monastery life. After some time, the two returned to the stables.

“That was… nice. Thank you, Professor. If…if you wouldn’t mind, could we do that again sometime?”

“Of course, Marianne. I’d be glad to, but make sure to get some rest tonight. I wouldn’t want to be the cause of you catching a cold.”

“Alright. Good night, Professor.”

“Good night, Marianne.”

**The Day of the Mock Battle**

The rest of the week leading up to battle had gone relatively smoothly. Byleth continued his lessons without further intervention by other classes, and he kept to the schedule better. The students advanced through curriculum at a steady pace. However, it became clear that after the battle, some more specialized training would need to be conducted for each student to get the most out of class. _That’s for later though, better to focus on the battle now._ That was something that could be said for each of his students. Each seemed distracted by one thing or another. Byleth was about to address the class about it, when Edelgard spoke. “Black Eagles! Today is one of a handful of days where we can demonstrate our abilities to the Academy. We owe it to Professor Byleth and ourselves to do well today. While not all of us will be participating, we should seek to give our all today, and to take the lessons we learn here back with us.” The BEagles cheered, and Edelgard turned to Byleth. “It is all up to your plan now, my Teacher.”

Byleth nodded, cracking a smile. “No pressure, right?”

Edelgard smirked. “None, just know that your job depends on it.” The two leaders of the BEagles had quickly developed a respect for one another. They both worked hard for the class, and while Byleth knew exactly how to bring everyone’s potential to bear, Edelgard always knew the right words to motivate. The two were starting to form something akin to a symbiosis, but it was still at the beginning stage. They had argued a great deal about tactics and who to bring. Each house was allowed five students plus their professor. For the Golden Deer, it was Claude, Hilda Valentine Goneril, Lorenz Hellman Gloucester, Ignatz Victor, Leonie Pinelli, and Manuela. For the Blue Lions, it was Dmitri, Sylvain, Dedue Molinaro, Mercedes von Martritz, Ashe Ubert, and Hanneman. After much debate, the Black Eagles had settled on, Edelgard, Ingrid, Ferdinand, Bernadetta, Linhardt, and Byleth. Each group was assigned a section of the field that made up the battleground. The Golden Deer took the left corner, which had some forest areas and a small wooden gate at the foot of two ridges. The Blue Lions took the right corner, which boasted a small stone ruin and a small clump of woods. The Black Eagles took the bottom right corner, which had two good sized sections of woods.

Byleth arranged the students into six-man box formation near a section of woods directly south of the wooden gate. He placed himself, Edelgard, and Ingrid on the front line, with Bernadetta, Linhardt, and Ferdinand bringing up the rear. Just as the battle began, he heard Lorenz call to Claude, that he would finish the battle himself. _Perfect_. He moved the box half way into the woods, hiding half their numbers, leaving himself, Edelgard, and Bernadetta exposed. Sure enough, Lorenz came charging across the field at the bait. He was being followed closely by Ignatz and Leonie. Leonie was a threat. She had to be taken out, and in answer to his unspoken command, Bernadetta let an arrow fly. Its beanbag tip struck Leonie in the forehead “killing” her. While Lorenz continued to charge unabated, Ignatz stopped and took aim at Edelgard. As he fired, she dropped into a forward roll, before jumping to her feet and charging Ignatz. She was on him before he could loose another arrow. Lorenz, meanwhile, dueled Byleth, but the latter was not taking opportunities to attack, when they were presented. Instead, Byleth was simply backtracking, slowly moving the fight toward the trees. Before Lorenz could realize what was happening, Ingrid and Ferdinand ambushed him from the woods. With that, the Golden Deer had been crippled.

They didn’t stop to rest, as there were others lurking about. As the group began to reform, an arrow struck Ferdinand in the shoulder. While it was meant not to kill, the training arrows still hurt, causing Ferdinand to let out a yelp. The BEagles turned to see Ashe darting back toward the forest across from them. Byleth nodded at Edelgard, who responded in kind. She set off with Bernadetta to try and take-out Ashe. As soon as he was finished healing Ferdinand, Linhardt dashed after the two women.

Edelgard and Bernadetta were two of the fastest Eagles in the class. This helped them catch Ashe, just before he would have joined his comrades. It was over quickly. Bernadetta stopped him in his tracks, with an arrow that landed at his feet, while Edelgard snuck up behind him, to silence him. By the time Linhardt arrived, the deed had been done. However, Dmitri had heard Ashe cry out, and was now organizing search parties to find him. The group opted to lay low, and formulate a plan to take out the Tempest Prince.

Meanwhile, Byleth, Ingrid, and Ferdinand had gone north, heading for the east side ridge. Byleth had rightly guessed (or remembered), since the gate was a good choke point along the road into the Golden Deer territory, that it would be an ambush. Instead, he opted to have his group hug the east side of the east ridge. By working their way up in this manner, Byleth figured he could outflank Claude, while also being able to keep an eye on the Blue Lions. What he hadn’t counted on was Claude’s unintentional move to intercept them. The BEagles were simply making their way along, when a glint to the front right caught Byleth’s eye. “GET DOWN!” The BEagles all hit the deck, as an arrow whizzed past. The team rose, to find themselves being confronted by the remainder of the Golden Deer.

“Well now, I make my way over here to attack Dmitri, and what do I find? A few shadows trying to sneak in the back way. Nice try, Teach.” Claude smirked, as he nocked another arrow, but before he could fire, Byleth shouted, “BREAK!” and all three dashed into the forest in separate directions. Before he could stop them, Hilda and Manuela had charged in, chasing after Ingrid and Ferdinand respectively. This left Claude to hunt Byleth, a task he was not ecstatic about. “Do you have a plan for everything, Teach?” Claude asked grimly, before following the trail the professor had left.

Dmitri and the other Blue Lions had heard the commotion from Claude’s side, and were on their way to intercept. Mercedes would stop any advance to the north, Dmitri would cover the south, and Dedue would strike from the side. It would be simple, they take advantage of the chaos Claude was causing, and wipe the floor with the other houses. However, he had this nagging feeling in the back of his head. He was almost sure he had heard Ashe call out from the woods to his left, not his right. But he could have been mistaken. Regardless, the path he had to travel, to reach his appointed position, would take him closer to the woods. As he continued to approach, his hair stood up on end. _Now is not the time to freak out. Stay calm. Stick to the plan._

Edelgard’s grip on her axe grew tighter and tighter, as Dmitri drew nearer and nearer. _Just a little closer. Just a bit more, and Lin will be in range._ She waited, only to be greeted by the zapping sound of holy magic being cast, lighting up Dmitri. Next, Bernadetta popped out of the woods. Her aim was true, two shots, one to each knee. As Dmitri collapsed, Edelgard rushed out. She stopped before his kneeling form, her axe raised. She brought it careening down toward the noble’s neck, but at the last moment, she held off. What would have been a damaging if not deadly blow, even with a training axe, became a light tap. The implication was the same though, Dmitri had fallen.

Claude stalked slowly through the underbrush. He had paused every so often, following the trail of broken branches and shoeprints, left by the fleeing professor. It wasn’t too difficult to follow, he had been hunting several times, near his home, and in Leicester. _But the rabbits and squirrels never fought back with swords either._ He thought grimly. This was going poorly for his team. He had heard Manuela cry out earlier. Her fight with Ferdinand apparently ending badly. He thought he had heard the sounds of a scuffle near where Hilda should be, but now there was only the wind. The wind, and the foreboding feeling that the trickster was getting tricked. _If only Lorenz had stuck to the plan, then maybe we’d be in a different situation now._ His train of thought was stopped by the sound of a cuckoo. The bird was native to his homeland, and would only sound if there wasn’t a threat nearby. He turned to look in the direction of the call, only to remember too late, that he was too far north for that type of cuckoo. A beanbag arrow struck him right between the eyes. He fell to the ground, only to see the form of Professor Byleth leaping out of a nearby tree. _Hah, beaten at my own game. You win this round, Teach._

With the remainder of the Golden Deer neutralized, Byleth and his team turned their attention to Dedue and Mercedes. Ferdinand being the closest to her, began to work his way to her. Byleth linked up with Ingrid, and the two prepared for a brawl with Dedue. The man from Duscur was formidable opponent, but between the two of them, they could handle it. They found him waiting at the edge of the forest, as if anticipating a signal from elsewhere. Before the signal could come, Byleth and Ingrid charged out of the forest to confront him. Byleth struck first, throwing thrusts and slashes, forcing Dedue to keep up his guard. While Dedue was busy fending off Byleth, Ingrid circled around to his back, hoping to finish the fight with a thrust to the back. However, Dedue saw it coming, countering with a shoulder roll out of the way. While this took him out of range of the two Eagles, it left him wide open for…. An arrow struck him on the temple. Bernadetta came running up, with Edelgard and Linhardt guarding the rear.

“Nice shot, Bern!” Ingrid beamed at the purple haired archer.

“Perfect timing. Thank you for the help, Bernadetta.” Said Byleth, as he ruffled her hair. The archer tensed up at the touch, but she slowly relaxed.

Meanwhile, Ferdinand returned to the group, having vanquished Mercedes. The squad reformed, a little beaten and bruised, but their spirits were high. With the Deer taken care of, and Dmitri’s squad beaten, only Sylvain and Hanneman were left. The group approached the ancient ruins, cautiously, as there seemed to be no one around. Byleth broke the squad in two once more, half going around to the south side, and half going to the west side. Their advance was short-lived, as Byleth’s group was stopped by Hanneman’s fireball. Any thoughts of further resistance left the group’s mind, as they heard a shout from the other squad. Sylvain came around the corner with Hanneman, holding Bernadetta in front of him, his lance blade at her throat. “Well, the gang’s all here. Seems you haven’t suffered any causalities from the earlier skirmishes. Good, cause if you don’t want to suffer any, you’ll agree to a duel.

“I am sorry, my Teacher. I thought victory was already ours. He captured her, before I even knew what was happening.” Edelgard hung her head, disappointment in her own failure as a leader.

“It’s alright, Edelgard. Everyone gets surprised now and again. Just make sure you learn from this, and everything will be alright.” Byleth turned to meet Sylvain’s gaze, his eyes lacking the usual softness he regarded students with. “What are your terms, Sir Knight?”

“Simple, I want a one-on-one duel between myself and you. You win, and the Professor and I will surrender. I win and you forfeit the battle.”

“Sylvain, perhaps you are getting ahead of yourself. We should think this through more.”

“Sorry, Professor Hanneman, but this is essentially our only shot.”

“Very well, Sylvain, I accept your challenge.” Byleth’s voice had taken a monotone, almost scripted sound. It was slightly unnerving to the ginger knight.

Bernadetta was entrusted to Professor Hanneman, while the other Eagles formed the perimeter of the dueling area. The two duelists stared each other down, from across the square. Ingrid was nervous. She had dueled both Sylvain and Byleth. While Byleth was a better fighter, he had been running and fighting this entire time, whereas Sylvain had not. However, what worried her more was the tone that Byleth had taken when agreeing to the duel. It was stilted and so unlike how he normally sounded. She wasn’t sure that would bode well for this duel, and because it was Sylvain, she felt partially responsible. _Nothing you can do about it now._

Very similar thoughts were currently going through the mind of the House leader. She had failed, and even though Byleth had assured her it happened to everyone, she couldn’t be just anyone. She had an oath to uphold and a nation to lead. She could not again allow herself to fall for such an obvious trap, and yet every time she started to mentally berate herself, Byleth’s words to her before he took his position, rang out. “Trust me, Edelgard. Everyone stumbles, they just need someone to help them up. I’ll take care of this.” With that, he had left her to prepare. She cursed the heat she felt rising in her cheeks, at the memory. She could already see something growing between him and Ingrid, not that she deserved anything anyway. So instead, she turned her attention to his opponent. Sylvain Jose Gautier was well known around the monastery, particularly by the ladies. He was the classic ladies’ man, flitting from one girl to the next. He never seemed to take anything seriously, and Edelgard was grateful he had yet to try and target her. This whole situation seemed out of the ordinary, though. Claude was the schemer, not Sylvain. _Seems I underestimated him. Guess there’s more to the man than a pretty face._

Sylvain ran through a couple quick stretches with his lance to loosen himself up. He stared down the professor opposite him, trying to size him up, but all he got in return was a growing sense of dread. It was as though he was not staring at a human opponent, but something else, a demon perhaps. Byleth’s eyes seemed to follow his every movement, but there was no fire, no anger, no despair, no joy, nothing, in his eyes. Whenever their eyes met, it gave Sylvain the feeling that he was staring into the void, and that if he stared to long, he would be swallowed up. _What have you gotten yourself into, Sylvain?_

Part of Byleth respected Sylvain for his actions. He had expertly set a trap to turn the tables on his more numerous foes, and if the hostage had been anyone other than Bernadetta, that would probably be all he felt. But it was Bernadetta, the poor girl had issues with fear and self-esteem, for reasons that she elected not to share. Taking her hostage may only have helped to worsen those issues, and for that, Sylvain had to pay. Byleth took his stance, daring Sylvain to begin the battle. _Hm, his footing is poor. He’s distracted. This will be over quickly._

Sylvain took his stance, and charged. He prepared to thrust his lance into Byleth’s chest, and even if he missed, his momentum should bowl over the professor. It would have worked, if Byleth had been there. Sylvain’s lance cut through only empty air. “Huh?” was the last thing he uttered, before darkness.

Byleth had rolled under the charge of Sylvain’s lance, springing up behind the man. With Sylvain thoroughly confused, Byleth had struck him full force, on the back of the head, with the flat of his training sword. Hanneman surrendered. Jeralt’s voice echoed across the field, “I declare the Black Eagles the victors of the Mock Battle.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, that was a long chapter. Sorry that this was a little late, I was having some trouble getting it going at first, and then the battle wasn't coming out the way I wanted. Still I think everything turned out nice, gave a couple characters some more spotlights. Edelgard does have a crush on Byleth, like in canon, but I refuse to write love triangles. Plus, she really isn't in the state of mind for a relationship right now. On Sylvain, he is honestly my favorite male character in Three Houses, well tied with Ferdi. He is really quite intelligent and perceptive, but tries to hide this, because of his worldview, that everyone only cares about crests. In a sense, his whole ladies' man persona is just an experiment to test his worldview. Considering this is Crimson Flower though, that is totally getting debunked, but I did want to show off his skills early on. He is a tactician, so him pulling the trap makes sense in my book. However, unlike certain other characters, he does not have a death wish, and facing down the Ashen Demon is akin to facing down the Death Knight. It's gonna spook most people. Anywho, as always, let me know what you think, and look forward to next week's chapter, Dreams of Past, Present, and Future.


	5. Dreams of Past, Present, and Future

Sylvain awoke on the ground, lying on his back. He looked around, seeing Ingrid kneeling by his side, with the rest of the Black Eagles staying a respectful distance away. His head throbbed. “Guess I lost. Sorry Ingrid, seems that professor of yours knows a thing or two after all.” As he tried to rise, he felt a strong hand push him back down.

“No, not yet. You’ve been out for a few minutes. We’re waiting for Manuela to clear you.” Sylvain looked to his left, sitting beside him was the professor himself, Byleth. While the professor no longer had the void look in his eyes, he regarded the young knight coolly. The knight considered himself lucky to only be receiving that. _Mental Note: Don’t piss off Professor Byleth._ Soon enough, Professor Manuela and the rest of the students arrived, followed closely by Jeralt and Lady Rhea. Congratulations were bestowed on the victorious Black Eagles.

However, despite the polite air of friendly competition, Sylvain could feel the tension. Not only had the other classes been beaten, they had been routed. There was no truly redeeming lesson in this demonstration for the Blue Lions. Their tactics, in theory, had been solid, even the last desperate gamble by Sylvain was a good move. But, none of that had mattered in the end. Professor Byleth and the Black Eagles had countered every move made against them. _It’s almost like Professor Byleth knew what was going to happen. Nah, even the best divination magic can only tell you the weather next week._ Still though, the man was a force to be reckoned with. Perhaps, it would be better in his class after all.

With Sylvain being taken care of by Manuela, the rest of the classes made their way back to the monastery. The mock battle had taken up the morning, and part of the afternoon, so the students were given the rest of the day off. Unlike the students, the professors were called into the Holy Sanctuary on the second floor of the main hall, which also served as a sort of foyer to the office of the Archbishop. As part of the learning curriculum of the Academy, students were to take part in monthly field exercises, like the one they had been on when Byleth had come to their rescue. These were designed to give the students a wider view of the continent of Fodlan, give them experience in actual combat, and help aid in the work of the Holy Church of Serios. The professor’s job was to ensure that the students accomplished this goal by the end of the month.

This month, the Golden Deer would be called on to hunt down some animals that were causing havoc for farmers in Leicester, the Blue Lions were tasked with hunting down some thieves for Lord Arundel, and the Black Eagles were told to execute the bandits that had attacked the house leaders. While Byleth was not wholly against exacting vengeance, he did not want to risk his students in such a venture. “Lady Rhea, I understand why you would like my class to undertake this task, but I believe it would be better for my students to participate in a hunt, before an actual battle.” Lady Rhea turned back to Byleth. _The vessel dares to challenge my decision. Foolish._ “The decision is final, Professor. You may introduce whatever training you wish, but by the end of the month, the bandits must be dead.” She spoke in a tone that almost invited Byleth to try and challenge her, but he had dealt with nobles who acted in a similar manner. Byleth would not be baited so easily. He simply sighed, before leaving the chamber. “Was that really necessary, Rhea? The Professor had a point. The students are still young.”

“Enough, Seteth. The bandits have dared to trespass on the graves of Mother and our siblings. For this grand mistake, no death is too good for them, and who better to judge them, than Mother herself.” Rhea smiled, the expression twisting into an eerie mix of pleasure and anticipation, somewhat akin to a wolf, preparing to devour a lamb. “She is in there, Seteth. Just waiting to emerge, and we must be ready to welcome her, to prove we deserve her love and praise. After all, why else would we have survived than to prepare the world for her return?”

Seteth looked at his Archbishop with concern. _She’s been acting strangely since the return of Sir Jeralt and his child. Now she is talking nonsense about Mother returning. Perhaps, Flayn and I were wrong to return after all those years apart. Nevertheless, we are here now, I should see if Flayn can do anything for Rhea._ With that, he left the hall, heading to his sister’s room, his boots echoing off the tile floor.

 _There isn’t much for it._ Byleth thought as he headed back to his room for the night. A week had passed since his conversation with Rhea. He had begun to spend more of his free time with the students, trying to see who would be prepared to kill and who wasn’t. This time had also helped to bond with the students. He found himself enjoying spending time with each of them, and with Edelgard, Ingrid, and Ferdinand in particular. He was training them hard, and they were dutifully responding to his teaching. Nevertheless, his thoughts about the upcoming battle, weighed on his mind. Once on the bed, he found that sleep evaded him. He sat there, alone in the darkness, for what seemed an eternity. _Maybe some fresh air will help. I could make my rounds in the dorms._ He nodded to himself, rising and making his way through the dorms, ensuring all was well.

He gradually made his way up to the second floor, where the highest status nobles slept, checking on each student. Most doors were locked at this hour, and the ones that weren’t, Byleth didn’t enter, as he did not want to disturb the students. He had just finished with the Golden Deer, when he heard a cry from further down. “Father…save…please!” Byleth rushed down the hall, using his stealth training to hardly make a sound. He arrived at the door. _Edelgard? I hope everything is alright._ He paused, listening for another sound, not wanting to disturb the princess unnecessarily. “Goddess…why…why abandon us?” Byleth knocked softly on the door, hoping that would do the trick. He was rewarded with a gasp from inside, and the sounds of someone rising. A few moments passed, and the door opened revealing Edelgard, wearing a long travelling cloak. Byleth raised an eyebrow at the cloak. Edelgard sighed. “It was all I had readily available, my Teacher. I am not dressed to receive guests. Why are you here, though?”

“Some things were weighing on my mind, so I decided to do my rounds, hoping the exercise would help me sleep. When I came up, I heard you cry out. I wanted to make sure everything is okay.”

Edelgard was torn. She appreciated the professor’s concern, and she probably ought to explain, but she didn’t want to bother him with her problems. She prepared to give some excuse and shut the door, but as she looked at him, she saw the compassion and concern in his eyes. Deep inside Edelgard’s heart, the spirit of a little, brown haired girl spoke, “Tell him. Trust him.” It was but a whisper in the mind of the future emperor, but it cut through the haze of indecision. She stepped back, opening the door wide and gesturing to a chair in the middle of the room. He obliged, glancing around the room.

Edelgard went to a corner dresser, and retrieved a small tea set and burner. As she began to prepare the tea, she spoke, unable to face him. “I was having a nightmare…no, a memory. My father, Emperor Ionius IX, had angered several of the noble houses, and as recompense his children were taken. I had ten siblings once. Eight older and two younger, so how did I become the heir?”

She paused, as the tea boiled. Grateful for the break, she prepared two cups, before taking a seat at her writing desk. She was about to take a sip before continuing, when she caught the professor staring at her hands. It was then she realized, she had forgotten her gloves. _Well, now you’ve done it, idiot. You might as well come clean._ “You are curious about the scars?” Byleth nodded. She continued, “Of my ten siblings, only two others bore a crest, Hans and Bertrand. The strength of the Crest of Serios has been waning in my family’s blood for generations. During the chaos that followed our imprisonment, a group of vile individuals sought to test their ability to make a peerless emperor. They experimented on each of us, and being the one with the strongest iteration of our crest, I was left for last. I watched as each day one would be taken, for hours. If they were lucky, then they would be returned to our shared cell, barely alive. If they weren’t, they either didn’t return, or their minds were so shattered, they might as well have been dead. But we hoped and prayed that father would rescue us, that the goddess would save us. Lucien, the oldest, did his best to protect us, but when he was taken, he didn’t return.”

She paused, half-remembered faces flashing before her eyes. “Eleanor and I were left in charge of the others. She was my rock, encouraging me, taking my thoughts off our suffering, and turning them to helping the others. If she had not been there, I would have lost all hope, and perhaps gone insane. She did not return either. In the end, I was left alone. They waited a little while to experiment on me. I was their last chance, and they could not afford failure. Then one day, they came for me. Exclaiming how elsewhere, they had succeeded in their goal. They cut me open, like one would fillet a fish, and injected me with potions or cast spells, for some unknown reason. All I understood about the process, was the agony and pain of it. For weeks it went on like that, until they finally succeeded.” She shakily held out a palm, calling to the secret second crest within her blood. The Crest of Flames appeared in the air before Byleth. “From what I overheard Hanneman say the other day, it seems we share this cursed crest.”

Not waiting for his response, she continued. “When they finally brought me back to the surface, I swore a vow to my siblings, that I would create a world where no one would suffer like we did.” She took a moment, sipping her tea, examining the man sitting across from her. He seemed to radiate a mix of stunned horror and pity. She glanced at the clock, half an hour to midnight. “Thank you for listening, my Teacher. I have not shared this with anyone else, but since you saved my life, and chose our class, I felt a unique connection with you. It felt good, to finally let someone else know. Please, do not share this with anyone else.” She looked down at her tea, finishing off the last portion. “Who?” came a hoarse whisper, almost unheard.

Edelgard looked up, but now instead of seeing pity and horror, she saw the fire of righteous fury. “The nobles who lead the Imperial government, headed by Duke Aegir, and no, Ferdinand doesn’t know.” Byleth simply nodded. He stood, placing his tea cup on the dresser with the others. Turning back her, he spoke. “Thank you for telling me this. I know we haven’t known each other too long, but I already care deeply for each one of you. If there is anything you ever need, let me know, and I will try to provide it.” He paused, glancing at the time. “It’s getting late, so we should probably head to bed. Good night, Edelgard.”

“Good night, my Teacher, and thank you for listening.”

Byleth wandered the campus aimlessly, the afternoon sun beating down on him. Two days had passed since his midnight conversation with Edelgard. Due to some unnamed students still recovering from wounds received in an interhouse sparing session, the faculty had decided to give the students the day off. This produced a problem, as it gave Byleth even more time to think. He was not used to feeling this distraught.

Everything in him told him he had to avoid battle as much as possible, but Rhea had made that impossible. The children had to be forged in the fire. _Children? They are almost at the age of adulthood. Why would I think…._ The world fell away from Byleth. The Monastery, with its happy students, dissolved into an ancient burning city, besieged by the horrors of war. Blood. So much Blood. Everywhere. Dmitri charged past him, calling to the Blue Lions, “We almost have them beat. The palace is just up ahead. Ingrid, cut a path for us.” The blonde woman nodded, Luin dancing in the evening sun. Each slash flung men and horses aside, and each thrust ended yet more lives.

They steadily advanced on the palace, Byleth following like a man in a daze, cutting down those that struck at him. _So much death. How did it come to this?_ He looked up, smiling a little as Ingrid waved to them, the path to the gate was clear. In that moment, the light mirth turned to horror. An arrow pierced Ingrid from behind. Like a fallen angel, she plummeted to the earth, a sickening crack announcing her impact. From off to Byleth’s left, Sylvain let out an inhuman wail, charging toward the gate. His advance ended, as his horse began to dissolve beneath him, purple and black energy disintegrating it. He prepared to leap from the horse, but a figure from the shadows ended his movement, permanently, her blade flashing.

Petra landed on the far side of the dark energy pool Hubert had created. She charged the remaining Lions, steel meeting steel, as Felix intercepted her. While the two swords masters dueled, Mercedes and Annette sent spells screaming at Hubert. With his concentration broken, the dark energy pool vanished. Dmitri and Dedue charged through the gate, running Hubert through with Areadbhar and Dedue’s great sword. _No! No, Stop!_ Byleth screamed, trying to stop the carnage before him, but his mouth would not obey. His feet continued onward. His head turned, screaming internally once more, as he saw Felix slash through Petra. He screwed his eyes shut, the only part of his body that listened, refusing to see anymore. But still, he heard the sounds of death and destruction.

Finally, his unruly feet brought him to the throne room. He knew before he opened his eyes, only Annette, Dedue, Dmitri, and himself remained. He remembered with vivid detail, all the deaths he couldn’t avert, even by turning back time. If he warned Ingrid, she was blown out of the sky by a spell anyway. If he stopped Sylvain, Felix was struck by an arrow. If he helped Mercedes, Dimitri got impaled on a Dark Knight’s lance. On and on and on. He was helpless to do anything. Yet, nowhere in his memories did he recall this level of horror, rage, and sorrow when looking upon the scene for the first time.

His voice, he barely recognized, told Dmitri to wait outside. His body opened the door to the throne room, but instead of seeing Edelgard atop the throne, he found himself in Sothis’ realm. He turned back to the hallway he had just exited, but instead found only a blue door.

He returned his attention to the goddess that haunted his mind. Marching up to her throne, “What was that about? Why did you force me to relive that horror?” The girl on the throne sighed, regarding the mortal before her with a mix of disdain and pride. Disdain due to his rude demanding of answers, but pride at the fact, that after living through all that once again, with emotions but no control this time, he was still arrogant enough to challenge her. “That was to prepare you for the choice I am going to offer you.” Beside her throne, three doors appeared, one blue, one red, and one yellow. She turned back to her mortal vessel. “Your decision to turn back time has wrought…. consequences, that not even I could have foreseen. This world is changing, and I can do nothing to stop it. While I have restored your previous memories, wholly, to you, they may not truly prepare you for this path. Therefore, using what remains of my power, I have summoned you here to offer this choice.”

Her breath sucked in slightly, as she began to offer the paths to his future. “You can choose to return to the world from whence you came. Your emotions will once more be submerged into the depths of your consciousness, and you will carry on as you have before. The Lion will rule the land, and life will stagnate once more. He seeks change through small increments, through bargain and negotiation. The change will come, but not in his lifetime, or in his children’s, or in his children’s children. The suffering of those in the Great War will have been for nothing, and the suffering of the people of the continent will go unheard by the halls of power. You will lead the Church in Serios’ stead, the one bright point for the people of the land, but their prayers will go to nothing. The goddess they pray to, has become one with the leader of the Church, and he is not able to hear them.”

Sothis paused a moment, allowing the weight of her words to sink in. He considered it for a moment, before a shake of his head signaled her to continue. “Or, you can enter the yellow door, and pass into the world of the Deer. Once more you will have to fight this war, and once more the dead will scar the land. Through your efforts and the Deer’s cunning, you will be victorious. However, like a fawn that scampers into the woods after feeding, the Deer will return to his own land, and leave governance to you. Some changes will be made to the world. A great peace will descend upon the known world, and an age of knowledge and innovation will arise. But, the suffering of the masses, the injustices perpetrated against them, these shall persist. For the root of the rot remains, and you will do battle with it all the days of your life. And you must fight it alone, for although the Deer’s battle flag is friendship, he understands the concept very little.”

Once more, Sothis paused, letting Byleth consider, before continuing on. “Or, you can walk through the red door. The Eagle is beautiful and resilient. She has been forged in the fires of sorrow, and suffering is her constant companion. Her goals are noble, but her path is paved in blood. Many shall die in pursuit of her vow, and many more will be scarred by the war that she wages. Her deceptions and schemes will rock the foundation of the world, but whether that shall be for good or ill is up to history to decide. You shall become her shield, and your students shall become her sword. She will judge the world, and in so doing, drench all the land in blood. As fire purifies gold, so will she attempt to purify the world, even as her own hands become covered in the muck of necessity.”

Sothis turned to the doors. With a flick of her wrist, they opened. Behind each door was a long hallway, pulled from the seat of power for each of the three rulers. A long carpet lined each floor, blue for Dmitri, red for Edelgard, and yellow for Claude, and on the walls of each hallway were paintings. What these paintings depicted, Byleth could not say. At the end of each hall, stood the rulers themselves, looking like they did in Byleth’s memories of the war, gazing up at a massive painting of Byleth. The Beginning regarded Byleth for a moment, a tear running down her cheek. She knew who he would choose, and she knew some of the suffering he would receive for it. Unable to stand it any longer, she rose from her throne. She walked toward Byleth, reaching out her hand. It wavered for a moment, before grasping his shoulder. “I am truly sorry, for everything.” With that, she left to speak with her other guests, it would take her beloved some time to decide.

Dmitri found himself in a strange place. He had helped Edelgard, Ingrid, and Claude carry a passed-out Professor Byleth back to the Professor’s room. However, the exertion had left him strangely exhausted, like a blanket of inescapable fatigue had descended upon him. He had barely been able to return to his own room, before passing out on the bed, still fully clothed. Now he awoke to find himself in a realm of total darkness. It was a nice change from his normal dreams. At least in the darkness, he didn’t have to relieve the horrors of Duscur, or see the dead spirits of his family rising from the grave, demanding vengeance. It was at least peaceful here. Gradually though, the darkness began to give way to an immense cathedral. The great stone pillars, supporting the gold inlaid ceiling, seemed to rise from the shadows around him. The light that chased away the darkness began to change color, as a floor to ceiling stain glass window formed on the back wall. Pews began to fill the spaces between the stone pillars, and the floor shifted into numerous beautiful mosaics, portraying the goddess and the saints and their miraculous works. He could even swear he heard an organ softly playing.

The cathedral reminded him of both Garreg Mach, and the cathedral in Fhirdiad, but at the same time, this was so much grander than either. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of soft footfalls on the stone floor. He turned, finding a young girl staring up at him, her green hair vaguely familiar, but her pointed ears protruding from her hair informed Dmitri that this being was not even human. She regarded him curiously, her head tilting to one side as she sized him up. “Interesting, so you are truly as pious as you appear to be.” The girl stated as she turned her attention to their surroundings. “Truly, this is a temple fit for a goddess.”

“Who or what are you, creature? Are you some demon that has elected to join the dead in taunting me?” The girl seemed taken aback. “You mean to tell me that my daughter never told her followers about what the goddess they worship looks like? Phooey, that will make this more tedious. Fine, look around you and tell me what you see.” Dmitri did not take his eyes from her, instead stating, “It is as you said creature. This is a temple to the goddess.” The girl smirked at him. “Well, what if I told you that this is what your heart thinks I inhabit in the real world.” Dmitri thought for a moment. _Inhabits in the real world? What could that possibly mean? Unless._ His mind told him it couldn’t be, but his heart told him it was true. He immediately fell to his knees before his goddess, begging her forgiveness. “Yes, yes, you are forgiven. Now stand up, we don’t have much time, and my Beloved needs all the help he can get.”

Before he could ponder who, the goddess’ beloved could be, he was whisked away to the royal cemetery in Fhirdiad. “Dmitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, you are haunted by the ghosts of an event you could not prevent. You proclaimed that you would bring vengeance upon those who had committed these vile acts, but is that truly all you want?” Dmitri pondered, searching his thoughts and heart like a scholar through a tome. However, the only answer was the one he thought at the beginning. “Yes, I would do anything to achieve that vengeance demanded of me by the dead.”

“Would you do so, even knowing that your goddess and father would disapprove?”

“Yes, a thousand times yes! Even if it condemns my soul to Ailell, I would seek to satisfy the spirits of the dead! They deserve recompense.” The goddess sighed. Her obvious disappointment was like a knife in the gut, but there was no way around it. He had to do this. She turned to look at him once more. “Very well, but know this, oh Lion of Delusion, you have set yourself on a path of destruction. You and my foolish daughter will one day fall, of this I am certain.” The goddess snapped her fingers, and the cemetery vanished, along with her, leaving Dmitri in darkness once more. He closed his eyes, falling into the abyss of sleep.

Claude had followed Dmitri out of Byleth’s quarters and up to the dorms. The last thing he could remember was opening the door and flopping onto the bed, his eyes shut before he hit the sheets. He awoke in a vast library, alone. _Oh, is this gonna be one of those dreams where I forgot to put on pants, and didn’t do my homework?_ A quick inspection showed he was fully clothed, and no homework was in sight. He stood up and quickly looked around the library. On the opposite wall was a floor to ceiling window, only interrupted by a staircase leading up to balcony that ran along the entirety of the room. The reason for the balcony being apparent, the whole rest of the room’s walls were covered in bookcases. The center of the room seemed to be for reading, with tables and chairs dispersed at regular intervals. Each bookshelf had a categorization, History, Philosophy, Holy Magic, Dark Magic, Black Magic, Mythology, Science, Martial Studies, and so on, but the two that caught Claude’s attention were at the end.

Two bookshelves near the back right corner simply said, Forbidden. “Been here only five minutes and you are already after my secrets. At least you’re honest for once, Claude von Riegan, or should I say Khalid?” Claude spun in the direction of the voice, coming face to face with, the top of someone’s head. He looked down, and there before him stood something out of the old tales of his homeland. _Green hair, pointed ears, could be some kind of fey, or maybe an azi daha, like in the old stories. Guess that’d be why she’d know my name._ He flashed the girl a smile. “Oh, aren’t you just an adorable little thing, invading my dreams like this.” He gave the girl a little pat on the head. This caused her to pout, which only made her more adorable.

“You should show more respect for the goddess of Fodlan. Even your people showed respect to the azi daha, the humans who became dragons. Now stop doing that you infuriating little mortal.”

 _Nailed it._ “Oh, but you see, great and mighty goddess, you are mistaken. I am not little, you are.” Claude poured every ounce of sarcasm he could into that phrase, hoping the annoyance it would cause, would give him time to figure out a way out of here.

“Augh, I can see why my Beloved finds you so aggravating. It’s worse than talking to a brick wall, at least the wall won’t fire back with cheeky replies or half-truths. Look, I know your goal to try and end discrimination by breaking down international barriers through the encouragement of trade and cultural exchange. I brought you here to see if you would like allies in that fight.” That made him do a double take. He hadn’t spoken those plans aloud to anyone that he could recall, at least not in that manner. “Well, your holiness, I would be interested in alliances, but I need to know them first, can’t be too careful these days. As I’m sure you’re aware, I have been through too many assassination attempts to take people at their word. So, tell me who your Beloved is, and I’ll consider working with you, assuming I know them.”

The girl looked downcast, as though she had just lost some interdimensional bet. “I’m sorry, I can’t tell you. It would change too much, beyond what has already been changed.” She looked up at him, eyes pleading. “Please, you have to trust me!” Claude scanned her face. She seemed to be sincere, but that sincerity could be a faint, taking every sincere person at their word could get someone killed. “Sorry, no can do. Now if you can leave me to my slumber, I’d appreciate it, as it seems there is no more for us to talk about.” *Snap* Claude found himself in darkness. For a moment, he thought the girl had tricked him, but soon his eyes became heavy, and he drifted off to sleep.

Edelgard had left Ingrid in charge of guarding the Professor, while he slept. Edelgard, herself, had wanted to do it, but the fatigue that now plagued her body would not permit it. She had dragged herself up the stairs, glancing in an open door. Lying there, barely on the bed and fully clothed, was Claude, apparently as tired as her. For a moment, she considered getting rid of one of her rivals, but she quickly disregarded the thought. She was far too tired, and how would she explain it to the knights. She opted to only close his door. The princess of Adrestia slumped into the chair at her writing desk. Despite how she felt, there were several correspondences that need answers before she could sleep. She removed the false bottom of a side drawer, pulling the top envelope out. She began to read the letter from the Snake, Thales, but with each word her consciousness began to fade. Something about the Death Knight, Flayn, and a village of Remire, she struggled against the weight suddenly on her eyelids. Knowing that, regardless of her consent, Thales would enact his plan, she signed the letter, before drifting off.

The last Hresvelg child awoke to find herself in a very familiar situation. She sat in a prison, chained to the wall. For a moment, fear rushed through her. _The letter! Did someone discover it? I was foolish to do something like that, when I was so tired._ The sound of keys at the door drew her attention. The lock turned, and the door opened. Yet, instead of a knight of Serios or an Agarthan researcher, a small girl stood in the door way. She looked around the room curiously, before nodding at Edelgard. “A prison, that is how you see my presence, hmm. I suppose I should have expected this. This is where you lost your faith in me, isn’t it?” Upon hearing the last sentence, Edelgard’s heart dropped as she realized, who stood before her. In that moment, Edelgard became a lonely child once more. “You are the goddess, Sothis. Am I right?” Her words coming out as barely a whisper. Sothis nodded once more, as tears began to form in her eyes.

Sothis could barely look at the mortal husk before her. _So, this is how my daughter’s destroyer looked in captivity._ Tears came to her eyes unbidden. While Sothis had certainly felt responsible for Dmitri’s suffering, she felt even more responsibility for the child in front of her. Her crest, her power, her unfinished business, and her daughter’s religion had caused the afflictions that haunted the girl in the cell. Worse still, was the knowledge that this place had caused such an innocent heart to break completely. While the Lion’s suffering had caused him to seek the goddess more, Edelgard’s suffering had chipped at her faith, day by day. Each night she cried out to the goddess for salvation, and each morning only suffering greeted her, as her siblings all died due to the experiments. Her pleas for salvation, turned into requests for death, until she finally stopped praying altogether.

Seeing the look of horror on Sothis’ face, Edelgard began to turn away from the goddess. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Edelgard turned back to the goddess, her eyes began to water. “I heard your prayers, all of them, from all your siblings too. But…But I couldn’t answer them. I haven’t been able to answer any prayers since Nemesis slew me. But I can still hear them, every single tortured one. I can only speak to you now, because of the power my Beloved tapped into.” Edelgard was in shock. All of her beliefs and views came crashing down around her in that moment. _Sothis is real, but she is not all powerful like the Church said. Nemesis did kill Sothis like Wilhelm wrote. I have so many questions._ Once she put the pieces back together, she remembered specifically what Sothis had said, “my Beloved.”

“I see, so Rhea will be even more powerful, when we face her. Thank you for the warning at least.” Sothis merely smiled. “No, my daughter is not any more or less powerful than you expected, and I am certain my Beloved will be by your side, when you face her. After all, he has already chosen you.” _Already chosen me? If it is not Rhea, then who could it…_ Memories flashed before her eyes, from a time she could not remember, from battles she did not fight, leading up to a final sad wish **“I wanted to walk with you.”** Edelgard looked up at Sothis, who now stood directly in front of her. “Byleth?” The goddess nodded. “He will be your wings and your shield. Together, you will change the world. Have faith in your friends, for they will not fail you.” She paused, as though listening to something only she could hear. “He is ready to choose. You must go.” *Snap*

The prison around Edelgard melted away, leaving her in an exterior hallway of the Imperial Palace. Paintings of her forefathers lined the wall to her right, but she could not pull her eyes away from the canvas before her. Byleth Eisner stood proudly beside his writing desk, looking every bit as regal as any emperor. He was dressed in the black and red livery of an Imperial Officer, which made the ring (A light blue stone, set between two golden wings) stand out even more. Behind him were several maps of Fodlan, with a strange sword lying beneath one. What shocked Edelgard the most, was when she found in the bottom right corner. Instead of a well-known artist from Enbarr, the Lady of Hresvelg found her own signature. _I’ll have to practice a great deal more, if I am supposed to paint something like this._ She turned at the sound of feet behind her.

Byleth stood before the doors pondering for a long while. His head once more told him to return to his own…timeline, he guessed. It was the logical thing to do. Nevertheless, his heart and his soul commanded another path. Even though he hadn’t understood compassion at the time, the suffering he had seen at the hands of crests and the Church was not something that he could abide. If that would continue under Dmitri’s reign… He couldn’t allow that. But, if he sided with Claude, then only part of the problem would be fixed. But, if he joined Edelgard, then he would be responsible for all the death and suffering that came about because of the war. _What do I do? Every choice will result in suffering._ It was then he was reminded of a story he had read once, a legend more likely. A knight and a lord prepared to have a duel for the fate of the lord’s soldiers, when the lord proposed a question to the knight. “What do you do, when there is an evil you cannot defeat by just means? Do you stain your hands with evil to destroy evil, or do you remain steadfastly just and righteous, even if it means surrendering to evil?” The knight had replied that he would remain just, while the lord had elected to become evil, in order to destroy the greater evil.

The choice became obvious. While a war could take thousands, that was a pittance compared to the millions that had suffered, do suffer, and will suffer under a broken system. So, the vessel of the goddess gritted his teeth, clenched his fist, and made his second most important choice, in his life. He felt a warm breeze blow up from the docks. The air was filled with the smell of the sea, as the evening sun began its journey into the horizon. He knelt on one knee before the woman clad in crimson, appropriate, as crimson blood would soon stain his hands once more. With his eyes closed, his head bowed, he said, “I pledge myself once again to your service, Edelgard von Hresvelg.” _I will stain my hands with evil, if that is what is necessary to change this world._

Edelgard smiled at the man, who knelt before her. He, who had once been another Edelgard’s enemy, would now help her fulfill her vow, and lead Fodlan into a brand-new dawn. For the first time since entering that dungeon, Edelgard von Hresvelg felt hope for the coming day. “Rise, my Teacher.” The man did so, his serious face turning into a smile that shown like the sun. Edelgard could no longer stop herself, she embraced him, crying tears of joy into his shirt. He stood there, holding her, tears running down his face, as his heart told him, he had made the right choice. Gradually, everything began to fade away, and the two leaders of the Black Eagles were blessed by a peaceful rest.

Sothis reclined on her throne. While she had failed to stop the war, the peaceful scene below had been well worth the attempt. She smiled fondly, considering the ways the two leaders would grow over the next several years. “Um, hello?” She was snapped from her reverie, glancing to the foot of her throne, she saw a young blonde woman standing there. _Wait, did I accidently bring her consciousness here too?_ The goddess smiled, pondering what to do, with the small amount of time the two would have alone. “Hello indeed, is that any way to treat the goddess?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, first want to thank the author grayimperia. Their work, Lament, served as the inspiration for the three lords talking with Sothis. It is a great character study on each of the three lords, discussing their beliefs and flaws. I highly encourage you to read it, if you haven't already. On another note, I really enjoyed writing this, the character interactions are fun to do. I'm also a sucker for philosophy, so the debate about the ends justifying the means is extremely intriguing, especially when put into the context of Edelgard's story. She has a great deal in common with another semi-controversial anime protagonist, who I actually ended up referencing, virtual high fives to anyone who can guess correctly. Also went ahead and used the allegiance scene to foreshadow a couple little things. I don't think they'll be surprising to anyone, but you never know. Anywho, this is really turning out to be a lot more fun, than I originally thought, and I'm extremely thankful for the comments and kudos. It really does mean a lot to me that you guys are enjoying this. I've already started work on the next chapter, so I may even release it early. Have a great weekend everyone!  
> PS. Sidenote, I apologize to anyone who knows ancient Persian. Claude and Almyra are heavily inspire by ancient Persia, so I figured his people would have their own stories of Sothis. Azi means snake or dragon and daha means man like, but that is all according to wikipedia, so could be wrong.


	6. The Red Canyon

Edelgard awoke to the first rays of sunshine spilling in through her window. She felt rested for a change, the memories of last night’s… _What was that? A dream, a vision? It all seemed so real._ She was not surprised to discover she was still at her writing desk, but the desk top was now bare. _Oh no! Oh no!_ As she began to panic, a figure stepped out of the shadows. “Lady Edelgard, next time you feel yourself tiring, please do not engage in such…compromising work.” Edelgard breathed a sigh of relief, of course Hubert had taken care of it. He always made sure to clean up any potential messes. He bowed to his lady, before taking his leave. It was still early in the morning. _Perfect for some quick training. Perhaps the professor would like to join me?_ She made her way to his dorm, taking care not to disturb anyone else. “Sleep well last night?” Claude called out. She turned to see the young house leader leaning against the entrance to the dorms. “Yes, and you seem quite energetic as well, Claude. It is unusual to see you up this early.” The man in yellow stood up, stretching as he did. “That’s true, but learning things I am not supposed to know always has a certain, invigorating effect.” His voice had taken a dangerous edge. Edelgard felt every hair on her body stand on end. “Like the fact that Ingrid stayed in Teach’s room all night.” It felt like whiplash, going from fear and dread at the possibility of Claude having something on her, to embarrassment at the suggested implication. To add insult to injury, Claude displayed one of his trademarked smirks, before leaving the dorm.

Knocking on Professor Byleth’s door, she found out that Ingrid had indeed stayed the night. Byleth had answered the door, placing a finger to his lips, as he pointed to the woman’s sleeping form. She had placed a chair beside his bed, in order to watch over him, and had, at some point, laid her head on his bed. Quietly inviting Edelgard inside, Byleth closed the door. Deciding it would be best to wake her before the other students rose, Byleth tapped her lightly on the shoulder. After a few seconds, she raised her head, looking over at her professor and house leader. “Professor, you’re awake. It is good to see you’re alright.” She stretched briefly, before rising. “Oh, Edelgard, you’re here too. Great, that means we can get in some early morning training. Just give me a moment to change.” With that, she was out the door, presumably heading to her own room. The two leaders looked at each other in surprise, before bursting into laughter. As the fit of amusement began to wane, Edelgard became nervous, her other reason for coming so early, now at the forefront of her mind. “My Teacher, about last night, did that act…” She paused, unsure if she should even hope that the vision of the previous night had actually occurred. He merely nodded, understanding her question perfectly, a slight smile tugging at his lips. While this reassured the House leader greatly, it also left her with a multitude of questions. _Beloved of the Goddess. What does that even mean, and why him?_ She filed these questions away. Now was not the time, and Ingrid could return at any minute. As if reading her mind, the aforementioned blonde appeared at the door, motioning to Edelgard to join her. The two waited outside, while Byleth changed.

There was a comfortable silence between the two. The two women were both deep thinkers, each accustomed to being lost in thought from time to time. That is, until Ingrid chose to break the silence. “Edelgard, do you believe in the concept of fate?” The princess was taken aback by the question. So much of her life had seemed predetermined by someone else’s desires, that fate had seemed only natural to believe in. However, after her dream last night, seeing the world that another Edelgard had inhabited, a world governed by fate, she was no longer sure. Carefully considering her words, she spoke earnestly and truthfully. “I believe that fate only has as much power as we, ourselves, give it. If you believe fate is supreme, then it should come as no surprise that your actions seem to follow fate.” The blonde woman considered this for a moment.

Fate. It had seemed that hers had already been determined. Her only choice being which one she would receive. She could become a knight, and die in glory on the battlefield. Or, she could allow herself to be married off to some rich lord, who would only care about her ability to make heirs with crests. Yet, a chance meeting with the goddess, of all people, had thrown everything out of whack. “Your fate is not yet determined.” She had said to the young knight, and then proceeded to describe a great deal of embarrassing things. Ingrid blushed slightly at the memory. Edelgard’s voice snapped her out of thought once more. “And what do you believe, Ingrid?” The question rolled around in her mind, like a ball rolling around a hoop, able to fall in or shoot out. She had once thought she would be fated to wed Glenn, and the Tragedy of Duscur had destroyed that. “I don’t know anymore.” She whispered. _Perhaps, it no longer matters?_

The door behind the two opened, and the three comrades rose, making their way to the training ground. A few hours passed; training progressed much as it always had. Edelgard and Ingrid teamed up to try and best the professor, but no matter how hard they tried, he wouldn’t yield. Finally, their energy spent, the three each retired to their rooms to prepare for the day. Yet, the conversation with Edelgard continued to whisper in Ingrid’s mind. _Only as much power as we give it, huh?_ She checked the time, still half an hour before breakfast was served at 9. _Perhaps, I should confront this head on. It probably won’t go away until I do._ With that, she set out to find the one man who could tell her the story that she dreaded hearing.

She found him in the Blue Lions classroom, carefully preparing it for the day’s classes. He turned at the sound of the classroom’s door opening. “Oh, hello Ingrid. I’m surprised to see you here.” Dmitri started, as he continued to rearrange the books on the shelf. “So, what brings you here on this fine….” His question dies in his throat, as he looks to the calendar. It was the 20th of the Harpstring moon. He turned back to doorway, to see Ingrid still standing there, resolutely. “I’m sorry. Glenn’s birthday must have slipped my mind. How are you doing?”

“I’m doing alright so far, though Glenn is the reason I’m here. Dmitri…can you…can you tell me…how he died?” She had dealt with most of the grief, or so she had thought, but she could already tell that this was going to be hard to hear. Still, she needed to know, she needed to be able to move forward. If she just got some closure, if she only knew he died well, then maybe the scars would finally heal. Maybe she could finally let herself live again, and by living, maybe she could let herself dream again.

Dmitri was stunned. He knew that Ingrid had taken the Tragedy hard, as all of them had, but no one had ever asked him to tell the story, to relive those moments. Not that they had to, his nightmares ensured he would never forget. “I’m sorry, Ingrid.” He began. “He died right in front of me, protecting me, and I could do nothing. I should have done something, helped him, or stopped him. Instead, I did nothing, and he pointlessly wasted his life, protecting me.” He bowed his head, before turning back to her.

Ingrid had prepared herself for a great deal of stories about Glenn’s death, that he had died without getting a chance to fight, that he had died running to find the royals, even that he had died running like a coward (an extremely unlikely scenario), but nothing had prepared her for this. He had died in the most heroic way possible, protecting the last member of the royal family, and all Dmitri could say was that it was a waste. “How dare you discount his sacrifice? He gave his life for you, fulfilling his oath and purpose, and you call it a waste? He would have gladly laid down his life for you several times more.”

“You would not say that if you were there, if you saw what I saw. They all died so meaninglessly. There were no glorious deaths in that battle. There is no honor in death on the battlefield, only pain, for those who died and those left behind. His last moments were filled with regret and pain, and your suffering over the last few years was not worth his sacrifice.”

His words had started to echo Byleth’s, but then he tried to claim her feelings as his fault as well. It was then she realized it. Dmitri was not a man that regretted the sacrifices made for him, he was a man wallowing in the pain that those sacrifices had caused. He didn’t care about how his men had felt. He only cared about the pain he felt, and the pain he assumed others had sustained. He didn’t want to live to be better for them. He wanted to die to be with them, and preventing that, avenge them. And, she realized, she had wanted the same thing. They were both living a hollow existence, that wasn’t worth the sacrifices. “Your fate is not yet determined.” _That’s right, I can change, I have a choice. It doesn’t have to be this way._ “We don’t have to let the past rule us, your Highness. We can choose to move past it. Glenn would have wanted that. He died for you; you should live honoring that sacrifice.” The last sentence was more for her own benefit. She spun on her heel, heading toward the dining hall and the future. _It will be hard, but if he sacrificed his chance at life, then I owe it to him to live._

The students assembled at the entrance to the canyon. It had not been a long march, and the addition to two extra students, helped the task seem less daunting. Sylvain and Felix had both requested to come, they felt they had to, in order to make up for not protecting Dmitri. At least, that is what they claimed. The reality was that both young men wanted to see Byleth in action. They had both dueled him in training sessions, but they always knew he was holding back. Rumors floated around, that the only two who could make him fight seriously, were Edelgard and Ingrid. This was further reinforced by the amount of time the trio spent together. Regardless, two more experienced soldiers were not an offer Byleth would have turned down. He was trying as hard as possible to keep some of the novices out of the fight as much as possible. _Only so much I can do, when I’ll have to split the forces anyway._ The canyon, from a mixture of his memories and observations, seemed to be a massive ruined city, with vast bridges linking outcroppings. Each bridge was completely lacking in any sort of cover, and the group would have to cross two to find Kostas, in the center of the ruined temple. _It’s the perfect position for them._

He turned his gaze back to the assembled students. They showed a mixture of anticipation and anxiety, not unlike how many of the mercenaries had been, the first time. He drew his sword, catching the attention of the group, and began drawing in the dirt. “Divisions will go as follows: I will lead group one, with Edelgard, Bernadetta, Hubert, Felix, and Caspar. Ingrid will lead group two, with Sylvain, Ferdinand, Petra, Dorothea, and Linhardt. After we cross the first bridge, my group will continue north, across the second bridge and draw the enemy’s attention. Then, Ingrid, your group will cross the western bridge, and attack the enemy’s flank. We should be able to pull most of their attention, but be careful. Any questions? Okay, remember, watch each other’s backs, and we’ll all go home.” The briefing finished, and the groups broke up, the students wishing each other good luck or the blessings of the goddess. Byleth and Edelgard stepped toward the first bridge, Hubert dragging Bernadetta along behind, and Felix and Caspar acting as their rear guard. Ingrid formed up a few feet behind them, placing herself, Sylvain, and Ferdinand in an arc at the front. There was a small amount of space, then Petra, then more space, before Dorothea and Linhardt brought up the rear.

Byleth waited for everyone to get into position, before marching up the bridge, garnering the attention of the guards. One of them, an archer, prepared his bow. But before he could fire, he was engulfed in flame. “Hmph, another crispy fool.” Hubert said, as he adjusted his glove. The second guard, an axe wielder, had a better idea. He charged blindly into the duo at the front. He lost both his head and right arm as soon as he came in range. Two more charged down at the students, but they both met similar fates. Upon reaching the end of the bridge, Byleth signaled to Ingrid to begin their advance.

Ingrid had a very well-developed sense of smell. It was something she was rather proud of, and proved useful, when her legendary appetite became known to the cooks of Garreg Mach. The cooks had completely changed around the meal times, in order to give others a better chance at getting seconds, but it had not mattered. The second a fully prepared meal hit the counter, Ingrid seemed to materialize, regardless of where she was on campus previously. Today however, she cursed it under her breath. The smell of charred flesh, and the distinct iron smell of blood, filled her nostrils. She had hunted animals many times, but the smell of human blood was one unique to our species alone. Sylvain noticed her hesitation, and gently nudged her shoulder. “Ingrid, it’s time.” She nodded, dismissing her thoughts. _Focus on the battle and your team. Byleth is counting on you._ She and her group pressed forward, arriving just as Byleth secured the first outcropping. Once they were in position, Byleth saluted, before his contingent charged down the second northern bridge. Her group waited for a few breaths, before charging down their appointed bridge.

The warrior in front of her never saw it coming. Ingrid thrust her lance forward, in a good hard thrust. She felt the shock of the weapon connecting with the man’s back, then pressure, then nothing, as the blade of the weapon poke out the other side. Instinct took over, she had to retrieve her weapon. Planting her feet, she pulled hard on the lance, dragging her victim over. Once he was close enough, she planted a foot on his rear, and yanked the lance free. Dorothea caught her before she fell, the force of tearing the lance free having unbalanced her. She charged forward once more, Ferdinand and Sylvain flanking her. They moved together, slashing through the enemies in front of them, as a gardener would trim a lawn. However, Ferdinand overcommitted to a strike, and although the blow landed and killed his quarry, it left him exposed. Ingrid saw the scene play out in slow motion. Ferdinand was still recovering. An archer had already raised his bow. She tried to jump toward him, but her legs were locked to the ground. _I failed him. Ferdinand is gonna die._ And then, a beam of lightning crashed into the archer. Ingrid and Ferdinand turned to the source. Dorothea still had her arm outstretched, and was breathing heavily from the sudden exertion. While Linhardt checked on her and Ferdinand thanked her, Ingrid turned her attention back to the battle. They had just rounded the corner, and had seen group one charge into some sort of temple. Every bandit outside seemed to have been eliminated, but they couldn’t be too careful. The group reformed, before cautiously making their way to the temple. Group one emerged after a moment. Felix looked thoroughly disappointed, but Edelgard and Byleth looked pleased.

“Come on he wasn’t even a challenge.” The blue-haired swordsman said mournfully. “He could have at lasted a couple minutes more.”

“It matters not.” Edelgard quickly countered, “What is important is that we are all alive, and that our mission was a success. Now we can focus on our studies for the remainder of the month.” While the two carried on their discussion, Byleth ordered Sylvain and Ferdinand to check the bodies for any good weapons or anything of value. The two men looked unsure for a moment, before following the order. It was then, that the weight of what she had done, hit Dorothea. Petra comforted the young singer, as she wept at the thought of taking a life. Byleth’s cheery mode turned solemn. _So, we still couldn’t avoid drenching their hands in blood._ He thought ruefully. “Indeed, it seems somethings cannot be changed.” Sothis replied. The class waited till Dorothea was alright, and the two men had returned from their scavenging. Once everyone was ready, they made the return trip to Garreg Mach. It was made in complete silence. Those who had killed before, thought of their first kill. Those that hadn’t, were haunted by the first life they had taken that day.

Once back at the monastery, Byleth dismissed the students. He would check on them later, but for now, he was concerned about Ingrid. He needed to debrief her of course, but she also had not made eye contact with him on the journey back. He could try to catch her at her room, but the stables were closer, and she tended to go there for comfort. “Horses don’t judge you. They don’t laugh at you, or call you names behind your back. If you treat them right, they’ll always watch over you.” He chuckled at the memory. _I think Marianne might disagree with at least part of that idea._

He arrived at the stables, to find no one there. Maybe he had read her wrong. *Splash* “Cmon! Cmon! Why won’t you get clean?” He rounded the corner, and poked his head into Elessar’s stall. There stood the horse, faithfully standing over Ingrid, as if to shield her from prying eyes. Upon seeing Byleth however, he moved aside. She was crouched over a bucket meant for washing the horses, and was viciously scrubbing at her hands. Byleth cautiously approached. She had managed to get most of the blood off, but it still dotted her fingers. She began to reach for a scrub brush, when he caught her wrist. Byleth said nothing, but picked up a towel, and carefully wiped Ingrid’s fingers. The blood slowly transferred to the towel. Once the first hand was finished, he went to work on the second one. With both hands spotless, he turned his gaze to the young woman’s face. She simply stared at her hands, before a look of horror overtook her. “The blood! It’s back!” She moved to dose her hands once more, but they didn’t make it to the bucket. They were stopped by Byleth’s firm embrace. “It’s okay, let it all out.” He whispered to her. In that moment, all strength and composure left her, and she wept. Clutching onto Byleth for dear life, she cried into his chest. Her tears soaked through his shirt, as he softly reassured her, that she did what had to be done. The two of them sat there like that for a long while. She, with her arms wrapped around him so tightly, as though he would disappear if she let go, and he gently supporting her, continuing to reassure her, while stroking her head.

For the first time in a long time, Ingrid felt safe. She felt the love and acceptance that had not been in her life since Glenn. Her father had loved her, but he had also had certain…ideas…about her life, and her friends had never truly understood her. Now though, as she sat with Byleth, her training partner, her friend, her rock, she finally understood what Sothis had told her. _Strange, he doesn’t smell like battle. He smells like Elessar. Guess that’s a good thing, for now._ Was the last thing she thought, before her exhaustion took her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Sorry for the delay, but I had some writer's block over the past week. I knew what scenes I wanted to do, but how to get there was becoming troublesome. It is still a little shorter because of that, but rest assured, I am still committed to finishing this project. On the chapter itself: It always bothered me that really only Dorothea (who's aversion to killing becomes a recurring theme), Linhardt, and Marianne had an adverse reaction to their first kills. Most everyone else really just acknowledges the necessity, and that is the end of it. Reality is very different from this. People are setup to be generally averse to killing, even when it is necessary. When they do kill, the grief and guilt that follow, regardless of if it was justified, haunt a person. While I personally have no experience with this, my understanding comes from a few soldiers I know, who have been in actual combat. One in particular, said that some people have a switch in their head, that allows them to turn off the feelings of guilt and grief, but that most people don't have that. As such, I figured that it would be best to lean into this idea, this chapter and next. Those who have already killed, Felix, Edelgard, Hubert, Petra, and (in my opinion) Sylvain are going to have their hands full helping the others cope. I also couldn't pass up the Byleth/Ingrid bonding moment. Anywho, that's all for now, see y'all later.


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